Phantom Sanctuary
by tofu-melon
Summary: [SSHP].MWPP. Harry gets a chance to fufill a wish from the light, seeing as he saved the world from the Dark Lord. The Light misinterprets Harry's wish and sends him back in time, and to Harry this was a second chance. Slash and Het, details inside.
1. Year I: An Invitation

I sometimes hate myself. This story will have no reference to the seventh book most probably. I will not change it to stick to the seventh book story either. So please read this, and once the last novel comes out, I don't want to hear, "But Harry blah blah blah!"  
Slash and hetero pairings will be mentioned. The canon James/Lily, Frank/Alice, Arthur/Molly and the sort. As well as Severus/Harry, Sirius/Remus, etc. etc. There will be various one-sided attractions and OCs.  
This is the first part of a seven part story. Phantom Sanctuary will be one story but it will be separated into different parts/chronicles. This is the First Chronicle... Phantom Sanctuary: Into the Light

**000..."An Invitation to the Blazing Heat"**

The bright flash of light; a brilliant mix of scarlet and green, as both shades dripped with magic. Spectators' necks bent as the prophecy from years before, was finally being played out before their eyes.

It was a surprisingly noiseless moment, only the electric sparks and rapid buzzing of magic in the air.

And Harry Potter found the pressure on his mental barriers surprisingly comforting. Both his hands were trembling violently as he fought to keep hold on his wand, sweat wetting his palms and wrists. It couldn't last forever this way...

"_Aren't you a bit tired Potter?"_

Harry glanced up at the other wizard, whose magic fought strongly against his. Lord Voldemort... hanging on his last string of life; reduced to magic, body, and parseltongue.

Harry cried out as the magicked wind around them began to cut into his skin and he could faintly hear people calling his name in the background, "Tired of this," he snapped back, referring to their bond. Voldemort smirked. Harry didn't know if he understood or not, seeing as the only words that came from the other wizard were made out in Parseltongue and Harry spoke back in English—or at least he hoped so.

The movement at that second was abrupt and unexpected, but Harry saw it all. Voldemort whipped his arm away, successfully breaking their connection and swiftly side-stepping the crimson light. Harry's mouth parted as he watched the spell fizz out midway. Perhaps he held out that particular spell too long...

Voldemort was quick enough for a man of his state. Souls ripped apart, being brought back to life from nothingness, and hanging only by whatever thin cord that held him together.

Momentary panic caught up with Harry as he flung spells left and right, but missing the Dark Lord each time.

"_Shaky aren't we Potter?" _Voldemort cackled, his own spider-leg fingers wrapping around the light hilt of his wand—raising and aiming.

Harry suspected Voldemort would've taken that chance to blast his head off his shoulders, but it was when the shrills of his name caused him to trip in surprise, and a flash of gold caught his attention.

"Neville!" Harry called behind him, ripping the gold chain from his neck; its aged metal digging and ripping the back of his neck, and he pitched it to the boy, "Destroy it!"

Harry grit his teeth when Voldemort's eyes glazed in recognition, and the inhumane snarl that left his thin lips left the boy trembling with shivers.

This had to happen.

* * *

Neville saw Harry hurl something to his far right, calling his name and giving a curt order to demolish whatever it was.

Injured from the earlier attacks of the hopefully final battle, Neville crawled over to the item, it's metallic shell reflecting the sun's light onto his face and leaving a round sheen on his cheek. Gasping from pain and exhaustion, Neville dug his bloodied fingers into the harsh soil, ripping out the blood-stained grass from where it grew.

A locket. A golden locket that looked somewhat worn out and a thin golden chain that traveled out in silky waves above it. Neville pointed his wand to it without a thought...

"_Aboleo."_

* * *

It'd be a lie if Harry said he knew what was going on. It'd be a lie if Harry said that he thought he would live to see the end of the day.

But it was a soft voice that beckoned him. An androgynous voice and a sweet, sugar smell that enveloped his fatigued body with a warm embrace, _"What is your wish?"_

Harry let his eyes flutter shut, "I want to see my parents... just one more time..."

"_Death is but a road, and life-reborn is another."_

It didn't make much sense to him. Magic began to spark in the air around him, and the snug covers left his body. Harry immediately missed the comfort. But his eyes wouldn't open, his body refused to move, and his mind... his mind was shutting down on him as well.

"_Choose the road you desire."_

And Harry slept.

-be continued-

Uh-huh. Title came from B'z – "It's SHOWTIME!"

**Edited: Friday, January 19, 2007**


	2. Year I: The Suffering

First chapter of Phantom Sanctuary: Into the Light.  
The actual unfolding of the story.

**001..."Are You Well in the Suffering?"**

Harry woke.

Taking a gasping breath of life as he shot up like a bullet. He ran a hand through his hair, his harsh grip tearing some of the longer strands from his scalp.

The first thing he could recall was the distinct smell of green grass, and how he was covered in it. And then he remembered the light...

Harry realized that he couldn't see anything and the familiar weight on the bridge of his nose was gone. He blindly groped around, looking for a blur of black. His fingers brushed against the cool plastic rim of his glasses and he ejected a small noise of joy.

His surrounding cleared before his eyes, and he squinted as the light falling through the large windows against the wall and the white of everything around him blinded him for a second. The faint, but familiar, smell of Dreamless Sleep potions caught his senses and Harry took the chance to look down at his own body.

He was dressed in pajamas he had no recollection of putting on himself, but there was the fact Harry remembered being dressed multiple times in this exact wardrobe and felt perfectly comfortable in them.

Slowly, he threw his legs over the edge of the bed, gripped the clean covers and took a deep breath. He pushed himself up, his bare feet meeting the chilly floors of the Hospital Wing and found that his knees couldn't hold up his weight and brought him down to the earth with a slap of flesh against stone and a breathless cry of pain.

The clapping of shoe soles on the ground was immediate and Harry found himself being pulled up by strong hands and back into the bed.

Eyes wide and lips parted for breath, Harry could only stare at a Madam Pomfrey... that was not Madam Pomfrey. But the Madam Pomfrey that was not Madam Pomfrey leaned over to the boy with a frown, "Shouldn't have tried to move..." she muttered, "Just stay in bed, do you need anything? Are you hungry?"

Harry looked over the woman's face, smoother than what he remembered it. But he decided to mull that over later and only nodded to her questions, "... I... I think some nice soup might do." Pomfrey who was not Pomfrey nodded stiffly, but a warm smile spread over her lips, and walked away.

It wasn't long when she returned with a smooth bowl and the Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry found his heart stop for the forth time that day.

Dumbledore's beard was its unchanging sheer white color, but something in those twinkling blue eyes showed someone much younger... much more dangerous.

Harry took the bowl from Pomfrey with quiet thanks and watched wordlessly as Dumbledore summoned a chair beside his bed and beckoned the medi-witch to leave the two. Pomfrey frowned disapprovingly but obeyed, casting a quick silencing charm over them and bidding them their privacy with a curt nod.

The bowl in his hands was warm, and Harry gently cradled it in his lap while he rubbed his hands together before picking up his spoon. He was quick to dig in and took in large portions of the soup, almost greedily as he had neglected his stomach for the last few days due to the war—

—... the war.

Harry dropped his spoon, feeling his stomach lurch with nausea, and he stared at himself again, hoping to find scars on every visible place of flesh he could find and nearly cried out in horror when he realized his hands were clean of any sort of wound.

He nearly had forgotten the fact that Dumbledore was there, with his chair pulled up next to him and watching with narrowed eyes as Harry panicked about his clear, healthy hands. But Harry turned to face the man with an open face; vivid green eyes seeming to tell stories of pain and torture that was all flushed down into a single emotion of loss.

"... Sir," Harry started without his prompting. Dumbledore spent his life telling too many people things were alright and taking matters into his own hand, when it really wasn't alright and things were too late to be amended, "My name is Harry Potter."

Dumbledore's momentary shock was expected and Harry waited patiently for the man to digest this information. There was a tired sigh that he ejected soon after which was enough for Harry, and he continued, "I came from the year 1997, a time of war and death. And I do not belong here."

Harry was surprised at Dumbledore's quiet reply, "I know."

The boy—no... man continued, "I don't _want_ to be here."

Dumbledore nodded, "I know."

His sudden movement in anger tossed his soup bowl off his lap and onto the floor, its contents spilling out in an artistic pattern of broth, "You don't know! You never know! You're just as ignorant and prejudiced as the rest of them. You never cared whether I lived or died—never cared." Harry sobbed the last word out as he realized he allowed his self-control to go flying out of his hands.

But Dumbledore only nodded stiffly at being insulted by a man he just met, but at the same time knew him for some part of his long life, "Mr. Potter," he stressed it, as if it was awkward to him, "I am a man who experienced many things, death not yet on that list... but I have been through my own journey of time travel and I do—I _do_ know."

Harry did not look at him, "... I want to go back."

"I know."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall spent too long a life. A life of watching children younger than her just drop like flies while she was still able to walk like a prissy first-year. 

But she never knew how much it might hurt to watch her own student try to kill others, especially if it was themselves.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The wand flew out of Hermione's hand and into the aged Transfiguration teacher's as she sent a look to the other witch. Hermione simply glared right back and fell down onto the bed.

McGonagall sighed as she set Hermione's wand in her inner robe pocket and walked towards the girl slowly. This certainly wasn't the first time. No, Hermione Granger tried to kill herself countless numbers of times and these habits became worse as Harry left.

"He's gone..." Hermione absently rubbed her stomach with her eyes closed. She curled her legs up to her chin and hugged her waist, "Just _left_ like that... gone..."

McGonagall sighed. Her most brilliant student... broken down into this pathetic creature that couldn't even kill herself properly. It wasn't as if she really tried to do it, McGonagall thinks, as she always waits for someone to walk in and find her with a wand pointed to her temple and flash a stunning smile at them. It didn't matter how broken the girl was, she was too Gryffindor to blow her own brains out.

McGonagall was only thankful for that, "Mr. Potter did not just _leave_."

The expression on Hermione's face was indignant if not slightly annoyed, "He's _gone._" she emphasized as if McGonagall were a slow child.

"Ms. Granger—"

Hermione abruptly cut her off with a raised hand, "Weasley. Mrs. Weasley," she corrected sternly. The thought of losing her husband's name as well was too much for her.

McGonagall had nothing to say to that, "... please try to rest," and she could only turn to leave as Hermione decided she wanted to talk about other things and muttered to herself, "... it's okay baby. It's okay..."

Minutes later in the privacy of her office, McGonagall noticed Hermione's wand was missing.

* * *

"I didn't. Harry told me to destroy it. Harry did..." 

Ginny Weasley tossed her partner a particularly annoyed glance and gripped his shoulder with her strong hands. Ginny was working to achieve an auror status in the ministry, yet still in training and still in school as a sixth year. She was beautifully fit and sculpted into a strong, healthy body, but with the war efforts scars marred her face and her hair was uneven and cut short above her ears, "I know. I was there."

Neville hesitated under his lover's fierce grip and looked up to meet her fiery, hazel eyes nervously, "Do you... do you think he's—?"

"Don't say it," Ginny snarled, shaking the stouter man harshly, "Don't say it or I'll hex you!"

As he felt the younger woman rock him back and forth to cut him off, Neville snapped and slapped Ginny's hands away roughly and grit his teeth, "I was going to say 'Do you think he's happy?'"

The woman blinked at Neville's sudden outburst and the way he had defended himself from even her. And she smiled proudly, love filling her heart and she was proud of having Neville Longbottom by her side, "Yeah... he's definitely happy."

* * *

Harry admitted: He's visited Madam Pomfrey just one time too many. Any more and he was sure it would've been part of his daily schedule. But half the Hospital Wing was destroyed in his time and Madam Pomfrey was placed under St. Mungo's care suffering from severe internal burns. 

She was—no... still is a good woman. Harry tried to visit her, but St. Mungo's was so heavily protected they wouldn't even let him through. He accepted that fairly easily though.

But here she was. On her feet and staring down at him like a hawk while he lamely sipped down his soup.

Dumbledore had already left, tired and somewhat speechless at Harry's calm explanation. He had told the man everything he knew except for what Harry wanted to tell him most, the actual future.

He was about to. Harry opened his mouth and the only word that left his mouth was, "But—" before Dumbledore cut him with a small wrist twirl, "I don't want to know Mr. Potter."

It made Harry angrier than it should. But currently, Harry was all but angry... in fact he was just slightly uncomfortable and nervous under Pomfrey's meaningful stare, "... may I help you?" he asked the woman who simply shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face, "No, continue eating."

Harry obeyed uneasily, continuing to glance at the medi-witch here and there. After his bowl was wiped clean, Pomfrey came forward and plucked the empty bowl out of his hands and placed another one on his lap. Harry stared at the steaming broth for a second before smiling nervously up at the woman, "Um... I really can't eat another bite..."

Madam Pomfrey waved her hand and brought a chair out of the air with her wand, "Nonsense, nonsense..." she chided, placing herself into the chair, "A young boy like you should eat more. Go on..."

"I really don't need to. If I take anymore I'll be sick."

"You're already sick. If you weren't, you wouldn't be here."

Harry's jaw dropped and he tried to think up a clever retort for that, but had no chance to as Headmaster Dumbledore opened the large doors of the hospital wing and invited himself in with a smile, "Ah, Poppy... just the person I wanted to see."

Pomfrey looked away from Harry (who heaved with a relieved sigh), "What is it Albus?"

Instead of answering the woman's question, Dumbledore motioned for her to come behind the translucent screen for a private conversation. Pomfrey tossed a look to Harry then back at the blurred figure of the headmaster with a frown. She opted for Dumbledore, leaving Harry with his untouched soup.

Harry strained his ears to hear their full conversation and was not surprised to hear his name among the clutter of other words, "... Potter needs to leave bed..."

"No, too soon... too skinny, malnourished..."

At Madam Pomfrey's words of evaluation, Harry gave himself a quick glance and lifted his pajama top to find that his hard-earned muscles from quidditch were all gone leaving him only with a once-familiar body from six years ago.

It was almost horrifying to see the sunken stomach and the waxy, unhealthy color of the skin. Harry gulped and looked at the soup bowl with second thoughts...

However, before he could help himself to the second dish, Pomfrey walked out from behind the curtain with her lips tight in annoyance. Dumbledore followed closely behind her, a rare sheepish expression on his face.

Harry did not comment but only watched as the medi-witch took Harry's bowl and directed him to stand, "Well Potter, it seems you aren't sick at all—" Pomfrey tossed the headmaster a dirty look, "—so you're free to go."

Dumbledore clapped his hands, "Ah, that's a relief Poppy. Now come Mr. Potter, I shall choose a temporary dorm room for you..."

Harry followed obediently and gave Madam Pomfrey a small smile... she smiled back, and pointed to the soup bowl with a sharp look.

He knew... with green-eyes down casted to the hospital wear covering what would be a disgusting body. Harry knew this was not his body either... but rather a one borrowed from someone or someplace... perhaps made by magic or by the Dark...

And the warm somebody that cradled him before this all...

Harry closed his eyes, and allowed Hogwarts to overtake his senses as a tear escaped from the cage of dark lashes.

Would he ever return?

* * *

Weeks has passed for Harry in utter depression before he shot out of bed, and marched into the library unannounced. 

Madam Pince was surprised to see a eleven year old boy dressed in pajamas in her library during the summer break and walked over to him swiftly, questions on the edge of her tongue.

She was silenced when the boy turned to her with a pointed look, "Where are the books on time?"

The look was demanding, almost desperate in its light and Madam Pince caught another figure standing outside the doors with a smile. She pointed and watched silently as Harry stomped away.

"Headmaster," Pince called when the man, she had seen from the windows, walked in and stopped beside her calmly, "Who is that boy?"

Dumbledore's smile was mysterious and slightly irritating as he pushed up his half-moon spectacles and answered, "An unexpected guest."

* * *

Harry cursed feebly as he tossed books left and right and ignored the pointed glares Madam Pince was giving him. 

There was nothing.

He searched through dozens of books for time travel. Reading through all of them, but only having a single paragraph of notes.

Of course, he'd have a lot more if his case actually involved Time Traveling Potions, Time Turners, mysterious portkeys, and so on and so on.

All he recalled was warmth and a gentle presence that spoke in his ear—

—just what did the voice say to him again?

"Ah, Mr. Potter."

Harry glanced up momentarily to greet Dumbledore before he bowed his head back down towards his book, "Yes, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore looked pleased at the stacks of books that towered over the smaller figure that bent over them. Of course, it was a painful way to remind Harry that he was 11 years old again... having multiple, heavy textbooks fall all over his body. Even if he was able to defeat the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale, he was still human.

"How is your research coming along?" The Headmaster asked pleasantly to strike up conversation between them. Harry only nodded in response.

Dumbledore didn't wait for a reply and stepped around Harry and to the bookshelf behind him. Harry was frantically flipping through the old, and sometimes stained, pages that he hardly noticed Dumbledore pull out a thin book from the shelf and gently set it down beside him, "Perhaps, you should start here," he suggested politely and walked away, humming to himself.

"... crazy old bat," Harry muttered and pushed his heavy glasses as they slipped down the bridge of his nose. But Harry shoved his current book aside and picked up the one Dumbledore had chosen, "Complete Works of Light Magic..." he turned to the table of contents, ignoring the sudden hymn that erupted from the book as it was opened, "Presence of Light... how to identify... listing... famous light wizards..."

Harry frowned, disappointed that the book seemed to hold nothing about his current situation, he didn't understand what Dumbledore expected from it.

"Books are only best if they are read, dear," Madam Pince came up from behind him, probably to see where the music came from. But her expression of exhaustion threw Harry off for a second and he watched the woman gather some of Harry's books and begin putting them back in its rightful place.

Harry turned back to the page he was opened to and saw the bold title at the top.

He began reading.

-be continued-

Title came from Coheed and Cambria's "The Suffering"

**Edited: Friday, January 19, 2007**


	3. Year I: Lonely People

This one was a bit harder with the title...

**002..."All the Lonely People... Where Do They All Come From?"**

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly then rubbed the irritating itch on his neck before he returned to the book in his hands and continued on the passage he left off from.

The book itself was interesting enough. The theories that were introduced as the Light being some sort of bird, and then again being a presence of pure magic with no form. Harry merely fingered the folded corner of the book as he continued to read.

Even though the book was thin and small, the size of the letters large and bold... but it was hours before when Harry first started the book and he was still not even halfway.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry jumped at the sudden voice and whirled around, hands digging into his robes to pull out his wand when he realized it wasn't there.

But there was no need for such precaution when Harry noticed it was Professor McGonagall who wasn't really Professor McGonagall...

She raised an eyebrow at the boy but decided to leave it, "The Headmaster had me fetch you for dinner."

The thought of food caused Harry's stomach to growl in agreement and he sent a sheepish smile up at the Professor, "O-of course. I apologize for making you come up here to retrieve me."

'Here' was a quaint little dormitory near the library that Dumbledore assigned to him once he persuaded Madam Pomfrey to let him go.

McGonagall nodded curtly, "Please keep check of the time Mr. Potter," and she turned to leave. Harry sighed and placed his book face down on the page he was on and followed the woman out.

He was led up to the Headmaster's office by McGonagall who gave the gargoyle the name of a unfamiliar sweet and climbed the stairs as the stone statue leaped out of the way.

Something about Dumbledore's office always had Harry slightly alert, but past-day Dumbledore's office was filled with unrecognizable items that were laid out all over his desk. There was no doubt that this Dumbledore was much more dangerous than the present (or was it future now...) day Dumbledore who laid in the earth, covered by a marvelous white tomb.

"Ah, Mr. Potter... please take a seat," Dumbledore smiled pleasantly and directed Harry to a velvet chair that seemed to suck the boy into its cushions.

Fawkes, who Harry happily remembered, trilled a beautiful note as he noted the newcomer with a warm gaze of dark eyes.

Dumbledore ignored his phoenix's warble and waved his wrist to summon a House Elf. He requested a dinner for Harry and himself, pausing to ask if McGonagall was interested (she had declined).

The aged wizard straightened and turned to face the young man in the body of an even younger boy, "Mr. Potter... I was wondering if you have found a way home as of yet?"

Harry shook his head sadly and winced at Dumbledore's disappointed gaze, "I see..." he sighed and ran a hand over his eyes tiredly and Harry vaguely wondered if this really was Dumbledore, "Mr. Potter... if the bad comes to terrible, I am willing to let you attend Hogwarts in disguise of a normal first-year."

It took a moment for Harry to just sit there and stare before he opened his mouth to refuse, but Dumbledore beat him to it, "But I know that won't be a very intelligent idea either, seeing as your knowledge is much more advance and you know things here that other people don't..." he gaze him a pointed look and Harry turned away, lip between teeth, "... but yet you still have not told me about my future-self... other than being a 'ignorant and prejudiced' man," he smiled wickedly when Harry flushed a dark red.

The House Elf decided to return at that moment with a dishes and plates of food and two separate goblets of pumpkin juice. Dumbledore said his thanks and transfigured a book he randomly tossed to the floor into a high table. He set down the tray and pushed it towards Harry, "Eat, Mr. Potter. You look horribly thin."

Harry nodded and took his goblet from the other, "... I wonder where this body came from..." he smiled at his skinny, pale arms, "I wonder whose it is..."

Dumbledore did not answer, but simply picked up his fork and stared at the silver utensil, "How is the book?"

"Quite interesting. Although most of the wizards sound as if they're slightly insane—"

Dumbledore laughed, a powerful, jolly kind that shook Harry's heart as he gripped his goblet in shock, "Most of the greatest wizards are all slightly insane," Dumbledore smiled.

"Including yourself, sir?"

"... yes. I am slightly insane."

Harry shrugged, turning to his dish and took a piece of his meal into his mouth. It was wonderful... eating solid foods again.

The two continued to eat, enjoying the silent presence of each other's company.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore started as he finished his meal and vanished the dirty dishes, possibly back down to the kitchen, "I'd like to return to our former topic. What do you plan to do?"

Harry pursed his lip and glanced at the older wizard over the brim of his goblet, "... what do I plan to do?" he repeated the question slowly, "... I plan to get the hell out of here. I have... family back where I come from. I need to get back to them..."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

Harry had no answer.

So Dumbledore continued, "I am willing to help you along the way, Mr. Potter. You just have to remember to ask for it," at Harry's continuous silence, Dumbledore nodded, "And as I said before, I am willing to let you take on Hogwarts as a first-year all over again."

Harry, at this point, opened his mouth to refuse the offer, but Dumbledore cut him off with a raised hand and a piercing blue-eyed gaze, "However, I realize that your level is far beyond. If by any chance you do happen to stay here at Hogwarts, you will act like a first year and study like a first year," he smiled, "And I do expect you to keep your silence about the future. But that doesn't keep you from making friends Mr. Potter."

It was threat. Harry tensed at it and nearly snarled in retaliation, but his wand was missing; he had flimsy, weak arms; and was in the presence of the greatest wizard of his time. He was clearly outnumbered, and had no choice.

So Harry nodded his head, eyes dark and angry. He stood from his chair, knocking it back off its legs. He made no move to pick it up, "Thank you for the dinner Headmaster. You'll find me in my room," he bowed his head for a moment in farewell before tugging the door open and slamming it behind him with a large noise, knocking some of Dumbledore's items off the shelves.

Harry cursed, biting his thumb to keep him from shouting. The nerve of that man! Harry nearly forgot that this was the same man from his own life that had guided Harry through thick and thin... only to die and leave him without explanation or an apology for everything.

Although the man had done nothing that would cause him to owe Harry an apology.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry jumped a foot in the air at the sudden voice, and backed away until he felt the stone wall hit his shoulders then looked up, "... ah... Professor McGonagall..."

The woman raised an eyebrow at his display of paranoia and smiled softly, "I assume you're done with dinner," she walked over to him, a large book in her hands and she passed it to him, "It's a very interesting read..."

Harry looked down at the cover and nearly burst out in laughter that would have probably hurt his chest, "Thank you, Professor McGonagall... but I don't see why I would require this book."

The professor sniffed and tilted her chin up in a manner that looked so familiar to Harry he nearly wrapped his arms around the tall woman and sobbed into her shoulder, "I enjoy teaching smart students, Mr. Potter. It's every teacher's dream to have a student in their class with top marks and know it was because of them."

And she walked away with that. Harry could only stare, a wide smile on his face as he momentarily forgot about Dumbledore. He looked down at the book again and laughed.

He held a brand new copy of _Hogwarts, A History_.

* * *

The beginning of term was close and Harry nearly screamed in frustration as Dumbledore's stupid light book did nothing for him. 

It was even worse when the man himself walked up to Harry in the privacy of his dorm with a stern face and an annoying question, "Will you stay?"

Harry shook. He shook violently and the book in his hand nearly threatened to snap in two as he glared up at Dumbledore who chose that moment to smile politely.

Harry gave up.

The bed was too comfortable, and as soon as Harry tossed himself onto it he didn't want to get up again, "... I'll stay."

Dumbledore sighed. It wasn't a tired sigh like the ones he's been heaving the last few days... but a sigh of contentment, "Very well." Harry looked up from his position and frowned, "Headmaster, I don't happen to have anything. My wand's missing, robes, books..." he shrugged.

The wizard nodded in understanding, "It's fine Mr. Potter. Hogwarts has its own safe for children who are orphaned and unable to pay for their supplies. We will have everything for you."

"Headmaster, " Harry started, tone warning but eyes gentle, "Don't ever call me a child."

It was a flash of pain in Dumbledore's blue eyes, or Harry was just imagining it. But the bearded man nodded his head, "Very well, Mr. Potter," he said solemnly and turned to leave.

Pushing himself up with his hands and elbows, Harry grinned and called the Headmaster back, "... I was wondering if I could get my own copy of this," he held up the book the other had placed next to him that one day in the library.

Dumbledore laughed softly and inclined his head.

It was their sign of peace.

* * *

"Okay, Harry... breathe... breathe... Oh, Professor McGonagall!" Harry ran over to the woman who was almost frantic and quickly turned to the boy with wide eyes, "Potter!" she snapped, "Why are you still standing there?! You were supposed to be—I don't know! Where ever you're supposed to be!" 

Harry smiled fondly. He always liked McGonagall, "Of course Professor. But I just wanted to thank you for you hospitality the last few days. I hope you'll think of me well as a student."

McGonagall paused and pursed her lip as she stared at the boy's happy, angular face, "... I've always thought of you as my student," she confessed.

This made the other laugh, not mocking... but pleasantly joyful, "... you always did..." he shook his head and gave her one last smile before running out of the Great Hall to where he was supposed to stand so he could mix in with the students at any given time as they climbed the stairs before the sorting.

* * *

James Potter was excited. 

So excited he had no doubt he was _this_ close from just jumping right out of his trousers. But a firm grip on his arm by a girl he had met in the compartment kept him from skipping ahead of everyone else.

He pushed his glasses up, trying to slow his beating heart as well as his fast-paced breath. The girl next to him gave him a look and shook her head in exasperation, "I would suggest that you take big, _slow_ breaths. It doesn't help if you force yourself to hyperventilate now."

James threw her a glare and pulled his sleeve from her grip, "I can handle myself, thanks." He subtlety ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

The view of Hogwarts was amazing. It was everything his mum and dad told him it would be... but only more.

There were sudden gasps from behind him and he followed everyone else's eyes and tilted his head up to the ceiling, "Oh!"

Visions of humans, although their entire body was a foggy gray shade and they were see-through, James knew what those were and smirked smugly at the wide-eyed expression of the girl from before as she stopped in her tracks to simply stare. His great-uncle became a ghost. Something about buried treasure in their backyard, and he always bothered James's father about it.

But his great-uncle didn't matter, his backyard didn't matter, home didn't matter. He was in Hogwarts.

James grinned brightly as he neared the top of the stairs, blood rushing through his ear in his excitement. It was going to be the best year ever.

-be continued-

Title came from The Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby"

**Edited: Tuesday, January 23, 2007**


	4. Year I: Second Chance

Next Chapter...

**003..."Spend All Your Time Waiting, For That Second Chance "**

Harry expertly slipped in at the back of the cluster of new students that all slowly paced and marveled at their new surroundings; most mouths were wide open.

He stood next to a tall, Asian boy who spared him a glance as he came up from behind him and raised an eyebrow, "Where'd you come from?"

Harry frowned up at him, and hated that he had to crane his neck to look directly into his wide, brown eyes, "I was here the entire time," he lied smoothly. The boy didn't comment and faced front again, walking and letting his eyes wander around the walls.

"Attention," a stern voice called up all the first-years' eyes to the front and Harry saw McGonagall give him a quick nod before looking over the rest of the heads, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you will each be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is a very important tradition, because while you are here your house will be something akin to your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, you will sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in the house common rooms."

She paused for a moment, looking at the faces that seemed alert with attention and continued, "There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has their own history and each house has produced fine wizards and witches. During your time at Hogwarts, the good will earn you points, and the bad will cause you to lose them. At the end of the year, the house with the highest number of points will receive the house cup. I hope each and every one of you put your all into aiding your house."

Harry almost smiled in fond memory. How many times had he cost Gryffindor house points? Mostly due to Snape's intense dislike for him. He was tempted to look around for a head of greasy, black hair, but thought it best if he didn't. He watched McGonagall go on.

"The Sorting will begin in just a few minutes. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up with the time you have," Harry did smile at this, "I will return in just a few moments when we are ready."

As soon as she disappeared behind the large doors, chatter immediately broke out among the first-years. They seemed excited and tried to guess what house they would most likely land in.

Harry pursed his lip and nervously fiddled with the sleeve of his large robes that he had borrowed for the time being as his own robes were upstairs with the rest of his supplies.

"What house do you reckon you'll be put into?"

Harry turned his green-eyed gaze to the cool-looking boy beside him and frowned. Where exactly? It's been years since his first sorting... would he be Gryffindor again? ... perhaps Slytherin?

But he didn't have to answer as the boy impatiently went on talking as Harry's silence had been too long, "I think I'd rather like to be in Ravenclaw. Mum was a Ravenclaw, Pa was a Slytherin," he smiled politely and outstretched his hand out for Harry to take, "Name's Xiaoue Chang. Pleasure to meet you."

Harry didn't hesitate to grab his hand in a friendly shake and grinned, he knew part of this man in his daughter, "Harry. The pleasure's mine."

McGonagall returned at this moment and gathered everyone in a straight line; Harry was at the very end of the row. She directed them into the Great Hall and the huge gulps of breath were immediate, even Xiaoue gasped.

Stunning as always, Harry walked with slight wonder at seeing the Great Hall returned to its former glory of enchanted candles, and bewitched ceiling of stars. He thought he would never see that ceiling again.

But his attention was stolen away when McGonagall moved to the front of the hall and placed a four-legged stool and an old hat on top of it.

It was time...

The hat twitched for a second before it fell motionless again. But Harry could see the distinct lines where the mouth and eyes were supposed to be.

Then it began to sing:

"_Listen well, for I have a story to tell,  
A story of four, and their each own ways.  
Of founders and magic, and beginnings of us,  
So listen to my melodic phrase.  
Mighty Gryffindor, with head held high,  
Dauntless valor that shines above all.  
Strong Hufflepuff, honorable and just,  
Patience and loyalty are never too small.  
Wise Ravenclaw, witty and sharp,  
Clever and quick in all the right parts.  
Keen Slytherin, cunning and smooth,  
Crafty charmers and masters of art.  
You'll meet your greatest self with the four,  
Guiding you through this obstacle.  
And here my song ends, ladies and gents,  
So this is the tale of the founders and this castle."_

The Great Hall broke out into spontaneous applause and Harry joined in happily at hearing the Sorting hat sing once more.

"When I call your name, please come up and sit on the stool and try on the hat to be sorted." McGonagall summoned a long parchment from the air and began the sorting, "Allen, Synclair."

And she continued on from there. Harry sat patiently and slightly nervous on what surname he would be called by as she passed the A's quickly with five children and went on with the B's.

"Black, Sirius."

Harry straightened immediately and tensed to see a stern-faced, young boy walk up to the stool and allowed the hat to drape over his eyes. The hat paused for a few seconds, it's folds twisting and turning in a frowning expression before he called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius turned an ashy color as he staggered off of the stool and looked around at the Slytherin table in horror. Harry turned his eyes to that direction as well and blinked at the look of betrayal on a pretty, blonde girl's face. But Sirius stalked away to the cheering table and sulked.

It wasn't long before Xiaoue was called up and the hat was quick in its decision and called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Xiaoue walked over to the table with a handsome grin.

The numbers of students began to decline and Harry nervously toyed with his sleeve again.

"Evans, Lily."

The sudden rush of emotion was too much for Harry and he had to look away to stare at his shoes.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

High cheers followed after but Harry still kept his eyes on the ground. He heard a hissing beside him as another boy whispered into his ear, "That's the strange girl that keeps tugging at me. She's a bit of a bossy one."

Harry looked up to tell the boy off about speaking about his mum like that but froze at the face of the boy.

It was his face... but it wasn't him. Harry gulped as the blood rushed to his face, '_Dad...'_

He shut his mouth and went back to staring at his shoes. He simply listened with a impassively as the rest of the names were called and his attention was perked again when another familiar person walked to the stool at the call of his name, "Lupin, Remus."

Harry's heart was pounding in his throat now.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Still no surprise yet, and Harry had managed to make a small hole in the cloth of the robe.

McGonagall finally made it into the P's, and Harry straightened slightly, but his gaze never left his shoes. He had to see if he would be called or not...

"Pettigrew, Peter."

A nasty snarl left his lips at that, startling the people around him, and he dug his nails into his arms to keep himself from jumping straight at the boy who was undoubtedly innocent at this moment.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

But that still didn't stop Harry from hating him.

"Potter, James," McGonagall's voice was stiff when she said this, and Harry had no choice but to look up and meet her eyes. He nodded once.

He saw a glimpse of black robes swirling around long legs, and Harry couldn't stop himself. He saw the boy, his _father_ walking towards the stool with some regal air around him that struck Harry speechless as he saw a near-mirror image of himself having the old hat on his head and shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry's eyes followed him all the way to the cheering table.

And Harry's name was called after his.

"Riddle, Harry."

He lurched, eyes wide and furious as he realized who's surname he had been given.

Dumbledore gave him a sad look, and McGonagall a reprimanding one as she called again, "Riddle, Harry!"

Harry walked forward, tearing his eyes away from the old wizard's and to the sorting hat in McGonagall's hands. He placed himself on the stool and allowed the hat to fall over his eyes and waited.

"Harry Potter... what a complicated mind," the voice chuckled, "It seems you managed to coax my future-self into making you a Gryffindor, when my future-self thought it would be best for you in Slytherin. Well. No matter, I'm afraid you can't do anything about my decision now, as it is final and unchanging."

Harry held his breath.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And it was a good day to die. Harry grinned brightly, forgetting about his distress at such a disagreeable last name and smiled up at McGonagall who nodded with a small smile of her own. He looked over to the Gryffindor table that looked so familiar to him... like a dream.

But the smiling form of Xiaoue, madly clapping his hands, Harry knew for sure was not a dream. And he had to live this.

He paused to pass Dumbledore one last dirty look for bad naming sense before taking the empty spot next to Xiaoue and waited for the remainder of the students to be sorted.

A few more R's, then two S's before Harry saw him.

"Snape, Severus!"

Harry almost laughed out loud in relief. Snape was tall and lean for his age, his dark, greasy hair curtaining his face darkly and his waxen skin looked white in the light. But he was here, and Harry was glad for it.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry closed his eyes and breathed. Of course, of course...

Slytherin or not, Harry's Snape had died to save him. Died, not by the killing curse, but by a stray knife that caught him in the neck as he pushed Harry out from its way, breaking his carotid artery and stopping the flow of the blood from the heart to the brain. Snape had died in his own pool of blood.

But right now, he was alive. And if he could, Harry would change everything. James and Lily would live, Sirius wouldn't have to suffer, and Remus wouldn't have to go through hardships of discrimination and prejudice.

The rest of the names were called out and each student went to their houses and sat with their house mates, eagerly awaiting the feast.

Dumbledore stood from his chair, glancing at Harry momentarily, who ignored him, and smiled warmly, "Welcome to your first or new year at Hogwarts! Now before we begin our banquet, as we are all famished I'm sure, I'd like to point out that the Forbidden Forest, as always, is _forbidden_. I advise you to stay away unless you wish for a terrible accident," he smiled, "Now! Let the feast... begin!"

The food blossomed on the before-empty plates and Harry automatically reached forward to get the closet solid thing available.

"This is great. I'm a Gryffindor... I can't wait to see Mum and Pa's faces when I tell them the news," Xiaoue chirped, digging his teeth into the pie and downing it with his juice.

Harry swallowed and wiped at his lips with his sleeve and smiled worriedly, "Will they be angry?" Xiaoue shrugged, "I don't know. Pa expected me to be in Ravenclaw. I keep telling him I'm not that smart."

"It doesn't have to do with smarts, I don't really think," came a sudden reply from a girlish voice next to him, and Harry leaned over to see wide green eyes under the fringe of red hair. Lily Evans cocked her head to the side and fingered the brim of her goblet gently as she stared at the Asian boy next to her, "I think it's most about wit and how quick you are. A person could read a book over and over again and become that book, but that doesn't mean it comes naturally."

Xiaoue pulled a face, "I am witty though," he whined, "Don't you think I'm witty Harry?"

Harry looked away, unable to answer as he found his voice taken away by Lily's presence. Xiaoue misinterpreted his silence and pouted, "Fine," and he returned to his pie.

This was too hard. He couldn't possibly survive being in the same house as parents and the people he cared for most. He sneaked a peek down the table and saw James getting along well with the upperclassmen, but Sirius was sitting at the very corner, poking at his food, and Remus looked deathly pale and smiled weakly whenever addressed to.

Harry allowed himself to look at Peter who was staring at James with a sense of awe and amazement and he nearly retched in disgust. He was only glad the traitor-Peter from his time was dead. He and Ron both finished each other off at the same time.

He stopped himself before he made himself sick.

"Harry? Are you okay?" Lily seemed to be worried as Harry's face took on a green shade, "Oh, um... do you mind me calling you that? Urgh... is it too...familiar or anything?" she bit her lip and looked helplessly at him, but relaxed when the other boy smiled at her, "Harry is good. And thank you Lily, but I'm fine," he laughed weakly at how he lied to his mum straight through his teeth.

But Lily's face turned pink and she smiled back, "Okay..."

The feast was satisfying, but after the sight of Peter, Harry lost his appetite and settled himself for just the juice. He stayed behind as the Prefects went forward and called all first-years to them. Casting a look to Dumbledore, who caught it, Harry made his way though the crowd and towards the Headmaster as he walked away to the privacy of his office.

Harry easily caught up with the other wizard and waited until they were up in his office before he allowed himself to blow up, "Riddle! Do you think I'm stupid, sir! I _know_ who Riddle is, and I'm not particularly happy I took on his name."

Dumbledore sat in his chair behind his desk and laced his fingers together and frowned, "Of course, Mr. Potter. I understand your feelings if you know what kind of character Riddle is..."

Harry did not say anything. He could've easily gloated that _he_ had already killed Riddle, but did not say anything.

"Mr. Potter... I'll be frank with you. I find you a dangerous character."

Harry stiffened. To be distrusted by Dumbledore was something Harry thought he would never have to experience, "You don't even know me..."

"I know enough about you. Your temper, the look in your eyes, your _name._.." Dumbledore paused at Harry's vacant expression before continuing, "You come from the future, but how could I believe that? I could just easily think of you from the past in order to destroy me, Hogwarts, and its students." Harry opened his mouth to retort, "How could I know?" Dumbledore continued smoothly, "... I couldn't know. Because you're being quite smart about keeping your mouth shut and I wish it to stay that way."

Harry frowned, "But I could save lives with what I know. I could do the world something greater! I could—"

"No, you can't Mr. Potter. That is not the natural way of how our lives go. You cannot change the future by mouthing off that you're from 20 years later, and expect people to freely believe you!"

He was getting scolded by Headmaster Dumbledore, and Harry felt his face hot with embarrassment, "... But I could save your life."

Dumbledore shook his head tiredly, his blue-eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses, "... I cannot live forever. You cannot save my life," he looked at his hands and smiled wryly, "Promise me... make me a Wizard's Promise, Mr. Potter, that you are not allowed to spread anything about the future to anyone."

Harry wanted to sigh, but he simply shook his head, "I cannot make that promise, Headmaster, and expect keep it," he bowed his head politely and walked out of Dumbledore's office without a another word.

His head pounded by the time he made it back to the Gryffindor common room, but stared helplessly at the Fat Lady's portrait when he realized he didn't know the password. He groaned weakly and fell to the ground, holding his head in his hands when his headache beat relentlessly at his temples.

He hated childhood.

But... Harry thought wryly, he never made it to adulthood either. He simply smiled and buried his face into his arms, knees pulled up to his chest and his back pressed against the stair rails.

How was he going to survive this year?

* * *

Lily was the first one to notice the lack of Harry's presence. She stayed at the back of the line, hoping to see the boy around there, noting how shy he was and thinking that he was simply lagging. 

Xiaoue followed her easily when she mentioned the missing boy. Using his height to his advantage, he skimmed the tops of people's heads as they walked in front of them, "... Isn't that him?" Xiaoue pointed to a head of unruly black hair of James, but Lily squinted her eyes and shook her head, "That's not Harry. Don't even compare him with that prat! Harry's such a sweet boy."

The other shrugged helplessly, but could not find Harry in the crowd of first years, "Maybe he got lost?"

Lily chewed on her lip thoughtfully, worry catching up to her quickly and she was urged to go up to the Prefect and tell him that Harry was missing. But she didn't want to say anything in front of everyone else, in fear of embarrassing the other boy.

They reached a large, rectangular portrait of a rather oversized woman in a pink dress. The woman moved, startling Lily, and smiled at the students sweetly, "Password?"

The Prefect straightened proudly, his pale cheeks an ugly, red shade, "Treacle Tarts," he answered. The woman in the painting nodded and swung open for them, showing an opening to where the Gryffindor Common Room was.

Lily stepped in, gasping when a warmth enveloped her body. The Common Room was a gentle color of scarlet, and the fire was lit in the furnace, making the room glow in an unearthly way.

She forgot about Harry at that moment and allowed herself to be taken by the hand by various other first-year girls as they chattered excitedly and ran up to the girl's dormitories. She grinned at once and joined in their conversation.

So this is what peace at home was.

* * *

"Hey, hey..." 

Harry was rudely awoken by a strong hand on his thin shoulders and he sniffed pathetically, "Wha...?" he started to lift his head but groaned at the pain in the back of his neck. He fell asleep in his stiff position on the stone-cold ground.

Harry let himself be lifted up out of his uncomfortable position by the stranger's hands and blinked wearily as he saw the black-headed blur.

Grumbling obscenities, Harry pulled his glasses back onto his nose and jumped back a foot when he saw Sirius standing just before him. He ejected a small noise, but did not say anything besides that.

Sirius frowned at the other boy and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robe, "What are you doing out here?" he asked, his tone rude and mocking. Harry opened his mouth to retort but was cut off when Sirius decided he didn't care anymore and walked to the portrait as if he owned the world.

It ticked Harry off to no end.

But he was his beloved godfather—no not now... but later. Sirius gave the password in a long drawl and stepped through the hole in the wall and didn't wait to watch Harry scramble in through it as well.

The familiar embrace of the Common Room was immediate and Harry breathed it in gratefully. He also saw Sirius pause in his steps for a second before resuming. Harry frowned and stepped after him, "What were you doing out?"

"None of your business," Sirius quickly said.

It was suspicious now, and Harry could only think it was just like Sirius to sneak out on the first day. He didn't have a clue as to what the other was doing, but didn't really want to know.

Harry followed Sirius up the spiraling staircase, hoping to get to his bed before his body failed him and simply passed out in exhaustion. But Sirius was making this harder for him.

The boy stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to give Harry a mean glare, "Why are you following me?" he demanded.

Green-eyes widened at the question and laughter bubbled out of Harry's twitching lips, "Following?" he repeated through weak chuckles, "This happens to be my dormitory as well, Black."

Sirius took his bottom lip between his teeth and frowned, "... bloody Gryffindors..." and stomped away, leaving Harry there on weak legs and a question on his mind, "_... didn't he enjoy being a Gryffindor...?"_

The memories he had of Sirius from Snape's pensive in his fifth year, then the many stories he had heard from everyone else served as evidence that Sirius had enjoyed Gryffindor company...

But he was being so hostile now...

Harry shook his head and resumed his trek up the stairs, using mostly his arms to aid him in the short trip. He pushed through the door of the boy's rooms and recognized a familiar string of magic.

It was calling him, so he responded.

Following the magic that seemed to tie all around his body, Harry found himself in a room with an empty bed nearest the wall among the other seven.

He promptly collapsed into the mattress, ignoring the loud squeak that came from it and dismissing the idea that he had accidentally woke the rest of the boys up.

He would've taken this time to think about his way back home... but Harry immediately fell asleep.

-be continued-

Title comes from Sarah McLachlan's "Angel."

**Edited: Sunday, March 11, 2007**


	5. Year I: Left Behind

Wait... my well-organized story suddenly has a loophole. BELLATRIX is _OLDER_ than NARCISSA?

Goddammit.

**004..."Even the Pain was Left Behind at Some Point "**

It was too early to be up, Harry decided, and began to whine like a child when he felt a rough hand jolt him awake with harsh shakings. Wearily, Harry lifted his head and grimaced when he realized he had fallen asleep with his glasses on.

"Where were you yesterday after the feast? I was worried!" Xiaoue Chang demanded, hands on his waist and lips tight with strain.

Harry rubbed his eyes and automatically ran a hand through his hair as he did in the mornings, "I got lost..." he said in a croaky, morning voice. Xiaoue simply raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "With the crowd?"

"I got swept up by some other first years, and it took me a while to find where to go," he explained smoothly, looking around his surroundings and brightening up when he noticed a brand, new leather trunk. Harry jumped off the bed and kneeled next to it.

The trunk was a handsome brown shade with a small brass screwed into it, holding the initials _H.R._ Harry vaguely remembered just who H.R was, "... Harry Riddle..." he snorted bitterly. He pushed the latches up with his thumb and opened the suitcase expectantly.

At the top of the stack were neatly folded robes, black as they were supposed to be. He pulled them out to get to the other items underneath. Harry grabbed the familiar book that he had requested of the Headmaster and tossed it onto his bed to read it later. The other things were school books, scales, a cauldron put to the side, and...

Harry gasped and reached forward for the thin baton pushed to the very edge of the trunk.

A wand...

Harry realized it wasn't his old one, having disappeared mysteriously when he had been pushed back in time... but this one was just as beautiful.

There was small, rectangular parchment wrapped around the wood and Harry peeled it off to read it: "Ebony and phoenix tail feather, twelve-and-a-half inches. Good for the use of dark arts. Cheers, Ollivander," he slowly realized why this particular wand was chosen, "... Dumbledore."

He fisted tightly around the dark wood of Ebony and growled, "Making fun of me like that... as if I'd use dark arts after everything they did to my life..." he threw the wand to his bed as he did his book and began to strip, changing into his new—although hand-me-downs—school robes.

"How much longer does he intend to challenge me?"

* * *

Xiaoue watched as Harry's ears turned red. And when the boy snarled like an animal, he instinctively jumped back. The other boy seemed to forget about his presence, so he quietly backed away and watched Harry throw his wand into the mattress, the stick bouncing with the impact. 

Harry was a strange, if not a slightly violent, character. He seemed outwardly sweet and shy, but when in the comfort of his own mind became someone else.

Xiaoue was terrified and awed at the same time. Harry seemed beyond his years, and Xiaoue could only respect his maturity and answer back with adult responses.

Pacing down the spiral staircase into the Common Rooms, Xiaoue saw Lily among a small group of other girls and walked over to her with a charming smile. He didn't particularly like the way the girl held herself, higher than everyone else... but she has good intentions, "Hey, Evans."

Lily turned to face the boy and blinked, "Good morning, Chang," and her eyes widened as she remembered something important, "Did Harry come in last night? I... I forgot and—"

With short laughter and raised hands, Xiaoue cut the girl off mid sentence, "It's fine. Harry got back sometime last night. He's changing right now."

Lily nodded, a small smile on her lips, "That's good."

"You remind me of a mother hen when you talk about Harry..."

Lily flushed a dark red, only a shade lighter than her hair, but she clasped her hands before her chest and smiled, "Because... I'm a muggleborn I thought... people might think I'm different. So I was nervous, but Harry... Harry was so sweet to me. So I really like him," she said truthfully.

Xiaoue realized he didn't understand girls. Heck, he didn't understand most humans in general. He could only read his own mind—he had no control or idea on what went through anyone else's heads, "Harry's weird."

This caught the other girl off guard and Lily frowned quizzically, "Excuse me?" she demanded, a red eyebrow raised to match the tone of her voice. Xiaoue put up his hands in defense, as if he though the girl was going to attack him, "I-I'm just saying..." he trailed off, uncertain. Lily waited for a decent reply with her arms crossed and head cocked to the side, but she looked away for a second and her face split into a wide grin, "Harry!" she called, waving her hand.

Xiaoue turned to see the boy smile and wave back, also looking in his direction. The Chinese boy gave a curt nod. He stayed his place while Lily ran up to Harry and chided him for running off and making everyone worried.

Xiaoue noted the way Harry's smile was unnatural and his laughter was high and uneasy... he vaguely wondered if he was thinking too much.

"Let's go before we miss breakfast," Xiaoue reminded the two. Lily flushed and nodded, signaling Harry to follow behind her. The green-eyed boy shook his head in exasperation as if this was all very amusing... Xiaoue cocked a grin. It really was rather entertaining. Hogwarts, that is.

"Ah... Black," Harry paused to stare up the stairs at the handsome first-year who paused to yawn. Black glanced down at the trio and grimaced, "Good morning."

Xiaoue urged them to leave but Lily shushed him effectively and Harry only waited for Black with a polite smile.

But Black's steps slowed as he trekked down the stairs and Xiaoue fumed as he realized it was on purpose... although Lily was also irritated at the cocky attitude to the other boy, Harry stood smiling.

As if unnerved by such a innocent grin, Black raised an eyebrow to the other boy and stared into his face warily, "... what's that scar?" he asked.

Harry pulled back his black fringe, for Xiaoue and Lily as well, and to the slight side of his forehead marked a lightning bolt scar. It could've described as 'wicked' if it wasn't so angular and sharp like a true lightning bolt. It only served to be slightly creepy.

Black stared in wonder for a few seconds, not seeming to sense that his mouth was hanging open in wonder... but he quickly arranged himself and coughed into his hand, "... nifty scar," he commented lamely.

They walked down to breakfast together.

* * *

Harry was beaming in sheer joy as Sirius, cool and quiet as he was, wasn't hostile the way he was yesterday. The four silently walked down to the Great Hall, Harry first nodded to the teacher's table with a grim expression. He lightly fingered his new wand. 

Dumbledore turned away from the cool-green eyes of the other and pulled the nearest teacher into a conversation. How much those sharp eyes unnerved him...

Sirius made move to go sit at the edge of the table, but a sudden grip on his arm pulled him back onto the wooden seat of the Gryffindor table. Harry laughed and let go of Sirius's robe, turning his attention to the scrambled eggs.

The heir to the Black family treasures stared in silent shock at the strange boy that had rudely pulled him down to sit; his ears were burning. Then Sirius snorted and turned himself around, helping himself to some pumpkin juice to quench his sudden thirst.

The noise of students chattering excitedly was like a buzz of bees, but it became an angry swarm once the schedules were passed out.

Xiaoue groaned from the other side of Harry, "Double potions with the Slytherin..." he whined. The corner of Harry's lips quirked in a small smirk at the boy's behavior and just how ironic this whole set up was, but was only glad that Snape wouldn't be teaching... but rather learning alongside them.

Despite the years that passed by, Harry wasn't very apt at potions and he never had a passion for the subject. It might have to do with the many strange and sometimes disgusting ingredients, plus the putrid odor that reeked the entire dungeons... or it was simply the fact that Snape had taught the class.

"But I heard Professor Slughorn was a decent bloke," Sirius muttered around his fork. Harry silently agreed, although the man didn't die to save his life, at least he was a fairer man than Snape (somewhat...).

Breakfast ended fairly quickly and the four of them rushed upstairs to grab their books for the first class of the day.

Harry walked in the lead, knowing where most of the rooms were due to the fact he had already attended this school for seven years of his life. They made it to Transfiguration and were surprised to find themselves the first ones in class.

McGonagall inclined her head as they found seats in the second row of the room, "Good morning," she greeted politely. Lily nodded back with a sweet smile, "Good morning professor." The Transfiguration professor gave Harry a quick smile before turning around to her desk and changing into a slender, tabby cat.

Harry raised a quick eyebrow as the other three gasped in wonder and amazement, "That's wicked," Sirius whispered, eyes shining with a desire. From his side, Harry hid his grin.

Soon enough other students began to pile in and the class filled up nicely. Some that walked in pointed and looked at the cat that sat on the teacher's table, most people wanted to pet it but Lily told them off.

The second bell rang, signaling classes to begin, but the cat on the table did not move and her sharp, golden eyes glanced around the wide-eyed faces of all the first year students.

A minute after the bell there was a large noise of the door being slammed open and two figures ran in, out of breath and panting.

"Merlin..." James Potter wheezed and wiped the sweat from his brow. Beside him was Remus, looking around nervously and staring at the tabby with worried eyes. Harry saw Remus's nose twitch and realized he knew...

Remus quickly left James' side to sit in the open seat behind Harry. James, however took his precious time to find an open seat, "Well at least McGonagall isn't here, I'm sure she'd lose her hat." Harry hid his face in embarrassment as he thought that this was _his_ father.

And it was then, the lithe feline jumped off the table and in mid-jumped shifted in a blink of an eye (all the students jumped at this movement) and Professor McGonagall stood there with a look of slight annoyance, "Mr. Potter, can you tell me just why you were late?"

James froze, hazel eyes wide behind his glasses and he looked left and right as if wondering if she was really talking to him, "... um... I got lost ma'am." McGonagall nodded, "Lost... perhaps you couldn't read the map that was given to you before hand?"

This time, the boy flushed a deep red and looked down at his feet, "I... I lost my map ma'am..."

"Lost your map," the professor repeated slowly, "Perhaps I should transfigure yourself into an adhesive so it'll simply be stuck on you? Or perhaps the snitch in your pocket."

James grinned sheepishly and indeed he held a golden snitch in his trouser pocket. He handed it to Professor McGonagall easily and walked past the woman to sit in the front of the class, as though he didn't just get in trouble on the first day.

McGonagall gave Harry a look as if to say 'You handle him' and walked away to the front of the class, "Transfiguration is a subject that is not to be played with," she turned her desk into a pig and back, ignoring as the classroom filled with shocked gasps and slight applause, "Whether it might be human transfiguration or object transfiguration, one wrong move and you just might have a tree branch as your arm... permanently." The classroom seemed tense with excitement.

The smile that spread over the woman's face was border sadistic, "We'll be starting with turning matches into needles."

* * *

Harry nearly fell asleep half-way through class as he already got his needle, complete with a small hole for the string at the very end. Lily was quick to get her needle as well, but it still retained a rectangular shape, save for the end that caved in to a point. McGonagall praised both and smiled, giving them points. 

Lily flushed with pride and Harry looked at his shoes in joy. He wasn't best in Transfiguration, and was rarely praised in the subject.

"... um... Riddle..."

Harry jerked in surprise and turned to meet Remus's hesitant eyes, "Yes, Lupin?" Remus looked down at the toothpick on his table and pursed his lips, "I was just... wondering if you could help me out?"

There was a long silence between the two as Harry tried to steady his racing heart, "S-sure," and he walked out of his seat over to Remus who smiled gratefully at the other boy, "Oh, and you can call me Harry."

With slight reddening of Remus' cheeks, Harry realized this was too easy... charming two marauders were just too easy...

The class ended and Remus left with a perfect needle laying in the middle of his desk.

* * *

"Riddle... do you know where you're going?" Sirius asked as the surrounding became darker as they neared the dungeon. 

It was the last class of the day. They had already went through Charms with Flitwick who was still the good-natured little man that Harry knew from his time.

Harry pursed his lip in annoyance and turned to face Sirius, "Yes Sirius. I know where I'm going. And I told you to call me Harry." The other boy narrowed his dark eyes, "And I told you not to act so familiarly with me," he sniffed.

Rolling his eyes behind his heavy glasses, Harry turned the next corner of the black stones that made up the walls of the dungeon hall and found himself before the large, dark door of the potions classroom.

He pushed his way in and blinked to see another student already in a seat.

Severus Snape, Harry noted by the back of the student's greasy, black hair. The other three behind Harry ignored him easily as they sat down. Harry paused and met Snape's black eyes that glared like ice, "... hello," he greeted.

Snape grunted back and Harry grinned. "Harry! Over here!" Lily called. Obediently, Harry sat down in the seat next to Lily and Professor Slughorn came out of his office the next second. The portly man jumped and laughed politely, "Well, aren't you five quick. Can't wait to get started, hmm?"

It seemed the man didn't really want an answer as he turned away as soon as he shut his mouth and began arranging the vials and beakers on his desk.

The students that came in soon after were looking around the room with wide, slightly frightened eyes as they gasped and pointed at the strange things that floated around in potion jars all over the room.

Once the second bell rang and class started, Slughorn began by taking roll.

"Riddle, Harry."

"Here."

The man paused, looking up at Harry under his bushy eyebrows, "Are you related to Tom Riddle?"

Harry jerked and stiffened, face paling at the question, "... yes... I suppose you can say that."

At this confession Slughorn's eyes became round and curious, lips breaking out into a fat circle, "Ooh! I didn't know he had a son," he said excitedly. Harry winced and forced a smile, "Yes..." he said slowly, "... distant relative... in a sort of magical way," he'd be damned if Voldemort was a part of his unknown family tree.

Slughorn nodded, turning his attention back to the role sheet, "Interesting... very interesting... Snape, Severus!"

"Here," the dark haired boy awkwardly brushed his hair behind his ear and he met Harry's green eyes with a glare. It sent a disturbing chill down the other's back.

Once the roll was called, they began class with a few notes on the basic of potions, nothing Harry didn't know. But it was only after Slughorn assigned a potion that Harry paled.

He didn't know this one... and he even if he did there would be no doubt that'd he would misread some part of the direction, he knew was no good at this subject no matter how many years of it he took.

Lily ran off to partner up with another girl from Gryffindor while Xiaoue and Sirius were looking at Harry expectantly. The man from the future looked at them with wide eyes and realized where his best chances lay.

He glanced up to Severus Snape and saw the boy by himself and grinned. He faced Sirius and Xiaoue with an apologetic look, "Sorry, but you two pair up. I'm no good in potions so I really won't be of any help," he shrugged and ignored Xiaoue's open mouth, "B-but! Harry! You're really smart, and if I pair up with Black it'll be the blind leading the blind!"

Sirius huffed and marched up to the ingredients cabinet to obtain the necessary items. While the young Black heir was away Xiaoue clapped his hands together and mouthed 'please' to his friend. Harry rejected quickly and easily and ran over to the partnerless Slytherin, leaving a dejected Xiaoue to work with a fuming Sirius.

"Um... Snape, right?" Harry approached the boy warmly and put out his hand for the other to shake, "I'm Harry Po--... Riddle.

Snape raised a dark eyebrow and looked decidedly unimpressed, "Harry Poriddle?" The other boy laughed and shook his head, "No, no... just Harry Riddle."

As if he didn't hear him, Snape turned away and continued to set up for the potion, "What do you want Riddle?" he asked coldly. Harry pursed his lip and raised his eyebrows, "... I was wondering if you wanted to partner up...?"

The reaction was immediate and Harry didn't jump back quickly enough to dodge as Snape's arm snapped out and pushed the boy away harshly, "I don't need Gryffindor pity Riddle."

Harry staggered and gripped the edge of the desk nearest him to straighten himself and keep him from falling over. The Gryffindor bit his lip and closed his eyes as anger began to swell within him like a volcano and looked up at Snape with acidic, green eyes, "The last thing my offer is, is pity, Snape. I'm just asking because there happens to be no one left to partner up with."

This was true. Of course, Xiaoue and Sirius didn't have a choice as Harry rejected both of them to earn himself an easy grade in Potions with Snape who happened to be some freakish, genius at this subject.

Snape looked around and frowned, "... fine. But do only as I say, understand?"

Harry grinned and bobbed his head gleefully, "As clear as day, Snape!"

The day was not very clear... this seemed to be evident enough as Harry accidentally knocked at least a dozen beetle eyes into the mixture that seemed to be going perfectly. Snape ranted for at least ten minutes after that, then quickly restarted the potions, making sure Harry came the other way around and stayed at least ten feet away when he _wasn't_ doing anything.

"Riddle, pass the... no, not that. No. Not that. Pass the—no... the—no Riddle! Just listen!" Snape smacked the back of Harry's hand to keep him from fondling the other ingredients, "Pass the moth dust."

Harry quickly scanned over the smaller vials and spotted one filled with a brown fog. He popped the cork, but whether it was the fact his grip on the vial was too strong, or that it was fate... but the glass tubing that contained the moth dust broke in Harry's hand. The glass pierced the boy's skin and broke it. The dust escaped it's cage and flew into Harry's wound and Harry himself.

The pain from the wound was immediate and the searing burn that flared throughout his entire body came after. It struck his body like a bolt of lightning and the voices around him grew... grew and became obscure.

He could only identify a familiar scream of death of a woman in his dreams... just his dreams.

But as the hurt numbed into an annoying throb, Harry realized the scream wasn't a dream but came from the girl that held him in her lap, "Harry?"

Lily Potter—no, Evans now. Harry closed his eyes and smiled contently, allowing himself to drift into a sleep.

* * *

The sun was down and the hospital wing was completely bare of figures... save for one Harry Potter and was pulled awake by a strange tugging at his heart. He glanced around the dark surroundings and frowned at the comfortable sensation that came off his scar. 

Something was poking into his back and Harry dug into his robes and pulled out his wand. It's dark wood blended in well with the lightless room and Harry decided he didn't like that, "_Lumos_."

It was something out of a horror movie, seeing a face as he called up the magic and Harry stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep him from screaming in terror and shock.

This was a familiar face that he had never seen in this time and sincerely doubted he _would_ see this particular face again... not after Voldemort killed off half their species' population for siding with Harry in the war.

Dobby was one of the luckier ones, dying in combat rather than being found in closets and laundry baskets and _Avada Kedavra_'ed there.

"Mr. Potter, sir," Dobby whispered, his long nose forcing Harry to lean back to keep it from jabbing his eye, "It truly is Mr. Potter..."

With much difficulty, Harry pushed down the wad of saliva that caught in his throat, "D-Dobby...?"

The House Elf's smile was brilliant and bright. He jumped up and down on the bed clapping his hands and making small joyful noises, "Mr. Potter is remembering Dobby! S-such an honor as always to be by your side..."

Harry returned the Elf's grin and was only glad he wasn't banging his head against the lamp or anything... yet, "Dobby... how did you... how did you get here...?"

"Dobby did not get here at all, Mr. Potter. Dobby was here when Mr. Potter got here. Dobby is just remembering everything from Harry Potter's time... with he-who-must-not-be-named," the House Elf's large ears drooped in depression at the vivid image that came from his future self and Harry barely caught the fact that his mouth was gaping, "Y-you can see into the future?"

"See, Harry Potter?" his big, round eyes turned to his like lights in his wand's glow, "No, Dobby does not see future. Dobby experiences future. It is every elves' gift to wander into the future when it is most vital to their lives. I have only seen Harry Potter... and Dobby's demise."

"Dobby... I—"

"It is not Harry Potter's fault! It is not Harry Potter fault!"

And on cue, the small elf jumped off the bed and dived head first onto the stone floor. Harry couldn't move in time and only winced at the sharp crack and buried his face into his hands, "Dobby... please don't..."

Dobby's wide, near childish, eyes were apologetic and wet as he pulled himself off the floor and weakly rubbed the swollen bump on his head, "Dobby cannot help it sir. Dobby is still having a master in this time."

Harry licked his dry lips and found his tongue was parched as well, "Dobby... some water..."

With a simple snap of his fingers, Dobby summoned a goblet filled nearly to the brim with clear drinking water. Harry slowly downed it all and gasped at the satisfying chill. Then he recalled, as his eyes opened and met with the hand that held the goblet.

The hand that was wrapped with a clean white bandage from recent wounds, "... what happened...?"

"Harry Potter is not belonging here. He is still in Harry Riddle's Time," Dobby spoke softly, and his wide eyes darted around nervously. Harry frowned, ignoring the house elf's skittish behaviours, "Excuse me?"

This was too ambiguous and Dobby wouldn't quit fidgeting, "Harry Potter, sir... you are not a man of this time. So while your soul resides in this world... your body remains in the other."

And it slapped Harry, then punched him, kicked him and spit on his face. He was still over there.

"... my body's... am I...?"

"It is not yet found. Dobby does not know where it is."

There was a sudden shock that ran through Harry's body as the realization sunk in the the wave of nausea rose up. His body was lying in the middle of nowhere without a source of protection, "A-and the moth dust...?"

It was unnerving, watching Dobby wring his bony fingers like sticks and Harry wondered if he might snap them from how hard he was squeezing, "Dobby knows. Only because Dobby feels a string in Harry Riddle's mind that connects to Harry Potter's body. The Mother Moth is a magical creature. She is being a insect of slowing time.

Because Harry Potter is rotting in the future from lack of food, water and other necessary objects for human life, Mother Moth's essence is needing to stop it. Magical moth dust is used to stop rotting for many potions, so when Harry Riddle held the Moth Dust, it went through Harry Riddle's link to save Harry Potter's body."

"... but Dobby... there are dangerous beasts out there. I could end up dead without any protection."

The house elf nodded, surprisingly emotionless at the fact, "But Harry Riddle still lives."

It was bit of light, and Dobby was offering it to Harry.

It made the other frustrated and Harry tossed away the very idea, "Stop calling me by that name. I am Harry Potter, no matter what time period I am in Dobby."

"... Dobby knows."

The silence was long and uncomfortable. Harry laid back down and covered himself with his sheets, "Goodnight Dobby..."

The laughter was undeniable and Harry realized how clear and young it sounded, "Goodnight... Harry Potter."

And with a sharp snap, Dobby popped into thin air.

* * *

The next day, Harry ran out of the Hospital Wing without Madame Pomfrey's permission. It was early in the morning, too early for any self-respecting student to be up and about. 

"Blue Raspberry Fizzies," he whispered to the guardian gargoyle who immediately jumped out of way when the password was told and Harry began to trek up the spiraling staircases.

He wasn't even given time to knock on the Headmaster's door before he heard the man inside calling for him to enter. Harry did not hesitate to swing the door open and walk into the office he's been in one too many times by now, "Headmaster... there's been a slight complication."

Dumbledore smiled and motioned Harry into the seat across from him. The dark-haired lad took it without question and closed him eyes tiredly.

He really couldn't sleep after Dobby had left. There was too much going through his mind and so many emotions that came clashing against each other like a pair of Gryffindor and Slytherin.

But the atmosphere was quiet last night and gave him a chance to think in peace, not surrounded by snores from his room mates.

"... Headmaster, I have found a link that connects me to the future."

Dumbledore straightened up and leaned closer, his blue eyes were wide and shining behind his half-moon glasses, "A link? Where—?"

"Somewhere in my spirit... I can't be sure of the location... but this is my ticket back."

And Harry spilled the story of last night's secret encounter to the man who took it in with an expression Harry had never seen before on Dumbledore's face. It was awe.

"That's a very good lead, Mr. Potter. Perhaps more Moth Dust is in order—?"

Harry raised a hand to cut him off and grinned, "I've had enough Moth Dust to last me a life time."

"But it will be necessary for your 'body'..."

Harry bit his lip and looked to the ceiling, sinking deeper in Dumbledore's guest seat, "... perhaps a potion then? I mean... the very idea of... eating the powder off moth wings is very... unattractive."

The older wizard nodded curtly, and smiled, "Very well. I shall speak to Horace about it."

"... Headmaster... how many professors know of my... situation?"

The answer came quick and easily, "No one except your Head of House and Madam Pomfrey."

Harry nodded in approval and met Dumbledore's eyes, "Good. I'd like to keep it that way if you don't mind, sir," and with that, Harry pushed himself out of the chair and made move towards the door—

"Harry."

The call of his name in that voice made his heart jump and the said-boy turned to see the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore, "Everything I have done... is for the safety of you, as a student of Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. Ah, so this is childhood...

"Thank you sir. For everything." The name, the wand... he was willing to forgive those.

Still, their relationship was on the edge of a sharp knife. Distrust, disagreements, and other conflicts...

However, the respect was there. And Harry felt this might be the beginning road to what might be a good life.

A good life that he was afraid to exist in.

-be continued-

The title came from Shirota Yuu's -- Tachitsukusu Kanata

**Edited: Thursday, March 22, 2007**


	6. Year I: Be Wise

Look Ma, a plot... kinda.

**005..."Well it's Time to be Wise"**

It wasn't long before Madam Pomfrey found Harry hanging around in the Great Hall (more like being interrogated by Lily and Xiaoue while Sirius lazily raised an eyebrow up at him as if inquiring as well) and dragged him away by the ear.

Harry was put in bed and checked throughly by the medi-witch who soon diagnosed that Harry still needed bed rest.

"Madam Pomfrey...?"

Another student had come in and called for the witch's attention while she was poking and prodding at Harry rather forcefully and she scuttled away from the other boy to the first-year that Harry knew even with his eyes closed.

Remus tiredly followed Pomfrey to a bed, his thin form trembling and sweat running down his pale skin. He slowly crawled under the sheets, kicking off his shoes and wrapped the covers tightly around himself.

Pomfrey walked swiftly into her office, but Harry's eyes did not leave Remus's back, "... Remus...?"

The boy startled and whipped around to face Harry, his rust-shaded eyes wide with fright and sickness, "H-Harry..." he stammered, dry lips sticking and beginning to bleed.

"Are you okay?"

Remus offered a weak smile and nodded, "A slight flu..."

Harry nodded and did not say anything else when Remus turned back around. _Liar, liar..._

The Golden Boy from the Future pushed himself out of bed and ran out of the hospital wing, a sense of familiar adventure racking up his nerves like fire.

This sense of second chance. It was intoxicating.

Harry gave the gargoyle to the headmaster's office the password for the second time that day and bounded up Dumbledore's steps.

He hardly waited for the man to allow him entrance and invited himself in, "Headmaster!" Harry called through his pants, "How long 'til the full moon?"

Dumbledore's reaction was frustratingly slow to the other boy and the man did not seem at all startled by Harry's sudden appearance, "Why, it's in two days."

Harry left without another word. Whether Dumbledore was offended by Harry's obvious rudeness or not, it didn't matter as Harry slammed open the doors to the library, surprising the students inside and annoying Madam Pince.

He went up to the said-woman's desk with a charming smile and brushed away the sweat from his forehead, "Madam, where may I find a book about werewolves?"

"I don't think a first year is supposed to be studying such a thing," she smiled stiffly when Harry's expression fell, "But I don't want to know just what you have in mind either. Come, Mr. Riddle, I just might have what you're looking for."

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, and obediently trailed after Hogwart's Librarian.

* * *

It was a long while of simple reading and successfully dodging Madam Pomfrey, but Harry tossed the thick book to the other side of the room and roared in frustration. 

Xiaoue flinched when he saw the text hit the wall with a heavy slap and frowned at Harry, "Pince will have your hide for that."

"She won't know. Most of these books have an anti-damage charm on them anyway."

The other boy smiled fondly and shook his head, "I don't know what you're reading for, but take a break. Wanna go for a walk or something?"

Harry took a breath and closed his eyes. A walk sounded great, "... yeah... let's bring Sirius along."

A strange expression pulled on Xiaoue's face and Harry smiled, "Don't like him much, do you?"

Xiaoue shrugged and dragged himself off his bed, "You know in Potions... he just started going on about how much he wanted to be in Slytherin and how he hated being a Gryffindor..." the boy trailed off uncertainly, "I don't think he can be trusted."

Harry nodded, grabbing his school robe and slipping into it, "Yeah... but y'know, I've got mad instincts. He's a good guy, Xiaoue... you just need to give him a chance."

"... I won't do anything I don't want to do Harry... but I will give him time."

"That's a good boy," Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around the significantly taller boy. Xiaoue _was_ the tallest of the first years...

They chatted happily while Harry dragged a reluctant Sirius behind him, reluctant only for a few minutes before he was also adding snide comments here and there.

"But the potion ended up to be a success," Xiaoue smiled brightly and Sirius found it necessary that he bring down the boy's attitude down by a notch, "Yes, that was after you thought it was smart to dump a handful of porcupine quills in."

Xiaoue, sensing a match, drew in a great breath and stuck out his chest in an attempt to look fierce, "I didn't see you trying to stop me Black."

A slow smirk spread across Sirius's handsome face, "Why stop a monkey from his stupid antics when it only serves to be amusing."

Harry stepped in between them before things got ugly, "How was class today?" he asked both boys.

Xiaoue sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, "McGonagall's brutal and believes in cruel and unusual punishments."

Harry snorted at this and caught Sirius's small smile out of the corner of his eyes, "Did she whip you hard?" he joked.

It led to Xiaoue's bright red face and Sirius slapping a hand over his mouth to stop the laughter that was bubbling up inside him,"Oh God..." he chuckled.

It didn't take much from there for the three of them to burst out laughing.

And as they rounded the corner, Harry felt his head connect with something with a rather acidic odor and was knocked back.

"Harry!" Xiaoue put his arms around the smaller boy and pulled him back up to his feet.

Bottom aching and glasses knocked off his face, Harry could only make out the dark, fuzzy outline of a student, but recognized the voice that traveled to him in a arrogant drawl, "What do you use your eyes for, Riddle?"

"Stuff it Snape," came a hostile growl from Harry's left that he recognized as Sirius. He felt the cool wires of his glasses and took it from the other boy, "Thanks, Sirius."

With the familiar weight on his nose and vision cleared, Harry saw Sirius's awkward smirk, "I thought I told you not to be so familiar with me, Riddle."

"I'm not the one sticking up for you."

They exchanged sneers, but Harry turned to Snape with a sober expression and inclined his head slightly, "I wanted to apologize for yesterday, Snape. For ruining the potion and everything—"

Harry felt cool robes brush against his hand and whirled around in shock when Snape blatantly ignored him and walked away. Xiaoue's jaw dropped and he glared, "That stuck-up git!"

"Snape!" Harry called persistently, "Snape!!"

The Slytherin finally stopped, but did not give Harry a chance to talk as he began, "Riddle, I have no intention of speaking to someone that somehow manages to butcher up a perfectly good potion from simply picking up a glass tube from four feet away. Good day to you."

"What if I needed your help?"

There was disturbing silence after the question and Snape's interest was piqued. The greasy-haired boy turned to look Harry into his determined eyes, "With what?"

"Potions. I'm rather lousy in the subject and seeing someone as apt as yourself... well.." he looked away with a faint smile.

However, Snape was not stupid, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Riddle. What is this you're talking about?"

Harry looked to the two Gryffindors that stood at his side and mouthed to Snape, "Later." The other raised a dark eyebrow and walked away with a flourish of his robes.

Sirius scrunched his nose up at him and scoffed, "Pathetic. What gives that half-blood permission to act like one of us?"

At this Harry blinked rapidly at his future-Godfather, "One of us, Sirius?"

"Yes, you're a pure blood aren't you? And don't call me by my name Riddle."

The air around them chilled and Sirius paled at feeling magic crackling near his body. Harry's glare was cold and his expression dangerously bland, "I dislike discrimination of bloods like that. And for your information, _Black_, I _am_ a half-blood as well," and with a small sniff, Harry walked away.

Sirius looked at Xiaoue who shook his head, and the two ran after Harry. Because of the latter's smaller stature, the two easily caught up with him and Sirius grabbed Harry's robe to stop him from pacing ahead of them, "What are you getting all sensitive about it for?"

Harry grumbled something that both Gryffindors had trouble making out and walked away.

Deciding this was too much trouble, Sirius ran past Harry and stood in his way, a frown marring his face, "Look, you don't like me saying half-blood, pure-blood, or mudblood—"

"_Black..._"

Sirius rolled his eyes at Harry's warning tone, "So I won't say it in front of you. ... although you can't tell me what I can or can't say without you being there."

Harry glared at Sirius who stared him down with equal ferocity, "Then I'll be around you the entire time," he sniffed and walked around Sirius who raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips quizzically at the departing boy. He turned to look at Xiaoue who didn't return his glance.

"Frustrating Gryffindors..." Sirius growled, and stalked after a pouting Harry.

Their walk was much quieter after that only with Xiaoue, who stood neutral in Harry and Sirius's little spat, making obscene, ludicrous comments that a 11-year old really shouldn't know.

"I have four older sisters, three that live in the same house as I do. Do you know what being the youngest, and the only male child is like? It's hell. I swear it, Sisters are not nice people. They walk around the house near nude and Father doesn't mind at all. It's a very disturbing household, I'd like you to come visit at least once, Harry."

"I think I'll pass..."

Xiaoue smirked and shrugged, "Suit yourself. Nothing much to do there anyway. Except the one time one of my sisters accidentally attacked a muggle thinking she was banshee—"

"You talk far too much, Chang," Sirius chided harshly. The said-boy shut his mouth immediately and glared. Harry found it surprising how easily Sirius was able to shut the boy up, but smiled in silent wonder as Xiaoue made faces at the other boy.

The sound of their footsteps in the hall echoed due to the fact it was empty with most of the students in their common rooms or the library finishing up their homework.

So the sound of whimpers and surprised yelps sounded heavily against the walls and Harry stopped the two other boys beside him. Sirius looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow, ready to question when a high shrill of pain caught his ears.

The three broke out into a run, their inner lion breaking free and wanting to know what caused the cry of pain. And they froze at the sight of a tall, blond haired student.

Lucius Malfoy.

Harry recognized him immediately as a elongated smirk drew on his pointed face. His long hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck with a thin, green ribbon and his slender, pale fingers grasped a finely crafted wand that was pointed to a crouched figure, cowering under him.

Peter Pettigrew.

Harry looked down at the portly boy with a great burn on his back. His dirty blond hair laid flat on his skull and for a moment he looked like Neville. But there were distinct differences between him and the other. Pettigrew was smaller. Despite the fact he was huddled down on the ground, he resembled a round ball, it's cover wet with blood.

Immense hate welled up in Harry's gut, but at this point he didn't know who it was because... Pettigrew or Malfoy. He hated them both.

It was Lucius Malfoy from his memories that had broke out of Azkaban and put half of the Auror's in the ministry to rest. Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody included.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Lucius looked down at Pettigrew and pushed him with the toe of his freshly shined shoes, "You see this, Gryffindors? Your friend here was insolent and _stupid_ enough to step on my new shoes. They cost a fortune, dragon hide and all. But... plebeians like yourselves wouldn't understand. Especially a blood traitor like yourself, eh? Sirius Black?"

The red shade that Sirius took was ugly on his naturally tan skin and he made movement forward, drawing his hand into a tight fist. Harry reacted quickly and pulled him back against himself, "He's not worth it, Sirius! He's a chicken wuss taking on a first year. His spawn will be no better!"

"So I'll make sure he doesn't spread his large forehead around," Sirius snarled and drew out his wand.

Due to his smaller stature Harry had difficulty keeping the enraged boy at bay, "What can _you_ do with that silly stick?!" Xiaoue came forward at this point and lifted Sirius off the ground then tossed him to the floor, "Cool your head down there for a moment," he grinned weakly and held him down when Sirius made movement to pull himself up again.

Harry turned back to Lucius with a disapproving frown, then spared a glance at Peter who shivered violently due to whatever curses and hexes he's suffered, "Pretty pathetic aren't you?" he didn't know who he was talking to. He was wanting to direct it to Malfoy but his eyes refused to move from Peter's burned back, "Disgusting piece of filth..."

Lucius raised a slender eyebrow and grinned, "Hm... your name... it was..." he glanced at the name tag that all first years were obligated to wear, "Riddle. Riddle... I've seen that name somewhere before, I believe. Hmm, it matters not for now. I sense a kindred spirit in yourself. And you're a Gryffindor..." he shook his head, "You look as if you like this proletariat as much as I do. Grab your wand Riddle, I don't mind sharing."

Harry tossed Lucius a charming smile, though his angry, narrow eyes flashed dangerously for a second, "You're much more generous than I made you out to be," Harry dug into his robe and pulled out his black, ebony wand.

He heard shuffling in the background with Xiaoue gasping and Sirius snarling and snapping his teeth like a dog, "Harry, what are you—"

"_Expellarimus!"_

Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's. The boy pushed up his glasses and looked it over for a second before tossing it behind him, "A wand is only as good as it's holder," he smirked and poised for a hex, "Get out of here before I make you puke slugs."

Ice-blue eyes narrowed and Lucius stepped around the Gryffindors, grabbing his wand before he broke out into a run down the hall. His glare promised future pain.

Xiaoue moved off of Sirius who picked himself off the floor and started with smacking the other boy on his arm, "Idiot! You got my robes dirty!"

"You could've wiped the floor with your tongue to keep it clean then, Black."

Ignoring the bickering pair in the background, Harry walked forward and outstretched his hand for the trembling boy, "... are you alright?"

Peter shook his head pitifully and held himself tighter, "I didn't mean to upset anyone... it's only the beginning and it hurts so bad... I want to go home..."

And Harry felt it. A warmth of human emotion for Pettigrew who was sobbing his heart out, "Come on... sitting here and crying won't help any. I'll take you to the Hospital Wing."

Peter took Harry's hand and allowed himself to be dragged up. Harry was careful not to touch the bit marred skin but it was near impossible to hold up the weakened boy that way.

Xiaoue and Sirius who followed from behind in silence watched as Harry gave up in the end and levitated his body in the air.

"You're quite apt with magic," Xiaoue sighed as they trekked up the stairs to get to the Hospital Wing. Harry looked back at the boy and cocked a grin, "Somewhat. I cheated by studying like hell."

"_I_ studied like hell and I still can't perform the basic _Wingardium Leviosa_ without making it run into something," Sirius commented stiffly.

"What did you try to levitate?"

"My cat. I hate it."

Harry nearly lost his hold on Peter as he choked on his laughter and paused for a second, "Hah... well... um, you should start with something lighter. Like a feather."

"Hn," Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment, stroking his chin, "I suppose I can start with dropping feathers on Chang's head. He'll look like the chicken he's meant to be."

"One more word, Black and I swear—" Xiaoue sputtered, his face pink. Harry grinned and snorted.

But Peter's case was much more serious than what they had figured it to be.

"It's a burn that spread from inside-out... he's pretty well-cooked..." Pomfrey shook her head and rushed into her office and within the same second ran out with a venomous looking pink bottle.

The three other Gryffindors watched in horror and Madam Pomfrey wrenched open Pettigrew's jaw and forced the pink liquid down his throat. Peter choked and sputtered wildly, but with Pomfrey's fierce yelling the other boys came forward and grabbed Peter from tossing and turning too roughly.

This was all in the span of three seconds and Peter collapsed in a dead faint.

Xiaoue's eyes were wide and crazed with terror, "Merlin..." he gasped and backed away from the medi-witch who brushed the sweat from her forehead, "... Now... who'd you say did this?"

Harry wanted to shake his head and say, "No." But Sirius beat him to it, "Malfoy. The dirty, little snake!"

"Then I'll make sure he is properly punished. Using dark magic on another student, a first year as well! You'd think a 4th year would have more tact and sense than that. Irresponsible! Had his father not been a great benefactor to this school, he'd be expelled before he could say ta-ta!"

Pomfrey stomped away to the privacy of her office where, no doubt, she would fire call the Headmaster and make sure Malfoy was severely punished.

Harry threw Sirius, who looked quite proud of himself, a dirty look and walked for the door, "I'm leaving. Tired and all..." he didn't want to have to deal with Malfoy so early in the year. If he approached him because of this incident... Harry was going to sic him on Sirius.

Xiaoue frowned and ran up to him with a small smile, "Want me to walk with you?"

"No, I'm just going to hang around the library and find something to read," he confessed and shared the other boy's smile. Xiaoue laughed, "That would be relaxing to you, wouldn't it?"

Harry shrugged and waved farewell to his two "friends" and made his way downstairs, "... hanging in the library? Relax? I'm not Hermione..." he said under his breath, out of hearing range.

No, Harry had a duty in the library. Helping Remus, finding a way back, and making sure his parents lived this time. He had a job.

The library was his war zone. He could not relax.

* * *

Harry was surprised to find Severus sitting at the corner table, nothing in his hands and he stared as Harry walked in. With a finger, Snape motioned Harry to come and he obediently went. 

"What is it?" Harry asked, falling into the seat in the other side of him.

Snape raised a dark eyebrow and scoffed, "'_What is it?_'" he repeated mockingly, "You said you required my help on... whatever. What do you need?"

"Ah," Harry grinned at the light bulb that went off in his head, "Of course. I need a temporary cure for lycanthropy."

There was a moment of extended silence. A nervous sort as Severus's pale skin became ghostly white and he leaned in closer to Harry to whisper under his breath, "As in... werewolves?"

Harry nodded and Severus reeled back, "No such thing. You can't cure something like that!"

"Shh... shh..." Green eyes darted around to make sure no one was listening and he also leaned over the table to meet Severus who sat inches away, "A temporary substitute. Something that cannot prevent the initial transformation... but keeps the human mind in the midst of it. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Severus's eyes roamed the walls behind Harry, lips pursed in thought, "It's... difficult. How do we even know such a thing can be created."

"Lycanthropy is a disease. It won't be long 'til the real cure is found... but there has to be steps. This is just one step for that breakthrough. I have the necessary information on werewolves themselves... but I need to study properties of potion ingredients and how they react to each other."

Severus nodded slowly at Harry's calm explanation, "And I can help by...?"

A slow grin pulled itself over Harry's lips and the boy rested his chin on his knuckles that gathered together on top of the table, "I... am a natural failure in potions. I need a person with a sort of knack for the subject. You're pretty apt aren't you?"

He knew the answer. And was only reassured when Snape's cheeks took the color of an ugly red, despite his steely attitude on flattery. Harry, however, was as sincere as he could've gotten with Snape. He nodded, "Excellent."

And secretly, Harry was only glad he could talk to Snape so casually without fear of landing in detention.

* * *

That night as Harry dropped back onto his bed, he sighed tiredly and saw the waxing moon partly hidden behind the clouds. 

It was almost time.

Harry pulled off his glasses and laid them on top of his bedside table and pulled his covers over himself. Then drifted off to sleep to the rhythm of his roomates' breathing.

-be continued-

A good question came up: "So what does Harry look like?" He's now in the body he had when he was 11-years old in his original life. He's a bit malnourished due to the Dursley's at that time, and he smaller than most of the other children his age. So he's skinny and short.  
I'd be happy to answer anymore questions.  
Title came from Vienna Teng's "Daughter."

**Edited: Monday, March 26, 2007**


	7. Year I: Newborn Importance

I've finished outlining 13 chapters of this. But even so, I haven't even gotten to the second term, much less Christmas.

**006..."The Shooting Star Wanting to Deliver This Newborn Importance"**

If living in Hogwarts has taught Lily Evans anything... it would be that owls are noisy. Normally it would be said that owls are the "silent predators of the night," but when your school's topmost tower holds an enormous amount of owls... it's bound to create a bit of chatter. It would usually take a muggleborn witch or wizard at least a week or so to get used to the owls, but for a light sleeper like Lily, it was going to take some serious, heavy-duty earplugs.

She tried to coerce her parents into buying a pair for her, but nothing seemed to be working...

So, awakened from her before-peaceful slumber, Lily exited the girl's dormitories and down the spiral staircases and dropped, face first, into the couch.

Only her face fell into the bony thighs of a certain someone. Snapped out of her sleepy stupor, Lily scrambled away from the body that she fell on top of with an apology on her lips. She froze when she saw wide eyes staring at her from behind glasses, "Harry..." she breathed, "Oh. Thank God! I was scared you were some 5th year or something like that..."

Harry gave a smile chuckle and put down the book he held in his hand.

And Lily felt a strange feeling down in the pit of her stomach as her heart rammed against her chest like a beast and her blood rushed to her face. Thousands of well-learned words ran through her head, most of them were synonyms of 'beautiful,' 'sincere,' 'kind,' and 'amazing.' She didn't know where she was going to place them.

Harry looked away, casting a quick charm and frowned as he read the makeshift clock in his hand, "It's rather early. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Don't you tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing Mr. Riddle. Especially if you, yourself, are lounging in the common room reading a book. Knowledge is power and all, but really Harry, sleep is best for you."

Harry nodded and motioned for Lily to take the seat next to him. Wordlessly, the red-head fell down next to her friend and her heart jumped out of her mouth when Harry leaned his head against her shoulder.

He was considerably shorter than her... considerably shorter than all of the other students, so his head only reached the upper part of her arm in his slouched form. Standing, he was a head smaller than herself.

Harry flipped his book back open and began to resume his reading. Lily had half the mind of reading over his shoulder, but with the gently dimming firelight and the comfortable, warm, weight on her body she felt sleep catching up to her again.

And she closed her eyes for a minute's rest.

Harry looked up from his book to note Lily's slack facial muscles and even breathing.

He hoped to get some reading done away from the figures of the past, but it wasn't going to happen obviously.

So he smiled and made himself comfortable until the girl woke up.

It was around two to three hours later that Lily stirred and violently smacked Harry on the nose. She yelped awake when the wires scratched her hand, "Ow!"

Ignoring the stinging pain on the bridge of his nose where his glasses dug into his skin Harry frowned apologetically, "Sorry..." he offered. The girl shook her head and tucked her hand behind her back, "It's not your fault. I'm sorry, did I hit you?"

"Haha, yeah."

"Sorry."

The door of the boys' dormitories opened with a resounding creak and the soft padding indicated of someone running down the stairs.

James's mouth threatened to rip as he yawned and arched his back in his stretch. Then he paused for a moment, staring at the two first years awake on the couch looking back him, then he deflated instantly, "Don't tell you two were up the entire night having a study group or whatever you bookworms do."

Harry decided not comment while Lily, being an eleven-year old girl, fired up and glared at the other boy, "You think you're so much better than the rest of the world with your smart comments, huh?"

"Look, Evans... I'm in the mood for your preaching... so I'm just going to restart the fire, and fall asleep over there," James pulled out his wand and made a flicking motion with it but stopped, realizing he didn't know the incantation for a fire charm.

So Harry helped him out, "_Incendio._"

"Right... you're a good man Riddle," James coughed lamely and curled up in the smaller couch of the common room and sighed happily with the warm heat against his skin. Lily didn't like it, "James Potter why are you not sleeping in your dormitory?"

"Noisy... with snoring and stuff..." the boy answered immediately, taking his glasses off and placing them on the floor next to him, "You're noisy too Evans. Be more like Riddle and shut your mouth."

Lily did not shut her mouth. On the contrary, her jaw fell and she narrowed her eyes dangerously with half the mind to just throttle him, "You're a selfish, pompous jerk! Harry and I were doing fine without you here!"

At this, James' head snapped up and his lips pulled over his teeth in what looked like an angry expression. Harry intervened before things could get uglier, "Haha... it's like watching a married couple."

The silence of disbelief was elongated and uncomfortable. But it was broken as James jumped out of the couch and fell into the open space next to Harry and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulder, "I like your attitude Riddle. You're a good guy—mind if I call you Harry? I'd sock you if you called me Potter though. It's James."

"No... I don't mind if you call me Harry," came the boy's soft reply, a warm feeling was rising from his stomach up to his cheeks, but James didn't notice as he leaned over and read the shining title of Harry's book, "The Complete Works of Light Magic? Huh... reminds me of something Great, Old Uncle Jack used to say. Something about being eaten by a monster of light, but it sounded like he was tipsy and got way too happy with the Fire Whiskey. He usually is, so you don't know when you should believe him or not... it's just safer not to."

"... eaten a monster of Light? Does he remember if it spoke to him? What did he feel? Smell? See?" Harry leaned over to James, surprising the other boy and making him lean back in response, "Um... no... I... really don't listen to Uncle Jack much..."

That was a conflict, albeit a minor one... Harry quickly overlooked it, "How about your Uncle Jack himself? Is he still around?"

The expression that James's face pulled would've been hysterical if Harry hadn't been so intent on wanting more information about this "Light Monster," but with his nose all scrunched up and his tongue peeking out between his lips, James made quite the sight, "No! He's moved on only five days after his death. Just a few drops of whatever good rum we had left and he was gone. Though he couldn't drink it, I guess he just felt good having it poured through his body or something."

Harry was decidedly disappointed but smiled all the same. From beside him Lily stifled a yawn behind her hand and stood up from the couch, "What time is it...?" her question wandered through the air, not directed to anyone.

"_Tempus,_" Harry casted without warning, startling the other two occupants of the room. Lily leaned over and gasped, "Ooh... a time charm?" she asked in wonder.

With a sheepish grin, Harry showed her the time gathered in his hand, "Something like that."

However, James saw it from a different perspective, "Where's your wand?" he blinked. Harry started and closed his hand in quick reflex. James didn't falter but his brows lifted higher.

It was required. All the students were required to be able to do at least the "_Tempus Charm" _without their wand. Time called for it, they didn't have the precious seconds to whip out their wand just to cast a simple time spell... that one second could decide life and death.

Their moment of uncomfortable silence quickly broke by students starting to join them in the common room, yawning and chattering in low voices. Harry looked away from suspicious hazel eyes and brightened when the top of Xiaoue's head could be shown over the stair rails.

And fighting for dominance over the stairs, Sirius stumbled when Xiaoue, bigger in size, shoved roughly and sent the other boy tripping down.

"Oh! Harry!" Xiaoue looked from from where he was helping Sirius off the ground, "So here you were. You weren't in your bed when I was up so I was surprised. Randomly early bird aren't you?"

"Random is right," Harry responded easily.

He stood up from the couch to wash up before he left for breakfast, but paused in his step to flash James and Lily a charming, Gryffindor grin, "James, want to sit with us at breakfast?"

The boy took his offer in a flash and returned Harry's smile with his own, "Excellent! Well, I'll just be waiting for you with Evans here," he turned to the girl who looked away, "and Black and Chang. Quite the group."

Harry shrugged and laughed at hearing Lily's voice replying in his stead, "You're lucky Harry's such a sweet boy! You should learn from him! I mean, you're so full of yourself and—"

"Evans! Ow! Evans! Your finger prodding hurts!"

* * *

"Oh? A seeker are you? Well that makes us quidditch buddies, hmm?" James laughed through his scrambled eggs. Harry smiled softly from under the napkin that he held over his mouth, "I suspected we would _still_ be quidditch buddies even if I wasn't a seeker," Harry responded cooly, earning himself a wide-eyed look of admiration from James, "Mate, you and I... we'd make quite a team. See? We both have glasses, dark-hair, wicked sense of humour, charms, and good looks, and—"

Harry was sure James would've kept on going if it wasn't for Sirius's subtle interference midway as he tossed James a dark look, "I think you're just misinformed on some things."

"No, I'm good Black," James replied warily with a frown, "Unless you have a problem with me?"

Sensing the underlying challenge, Sirius quickly took it up, "Problem? No, Potter. I have no problem. Although you seem quite intent on spraying food everywhere you face. I don't think Riddle enjoys having bits of eggs flying at him."

"I don't see where Harry has a part in this conversation at the moment. But I'll be sure to spray food on _you_, next time," James smirked triumphantly as the other boy looked away, his bitter mood becoming sour.

Harry sighed, his eyes meeting Lily's who shook her head in good humour. They got up and exited the Great Hall, wanting to have a head start on getting to class.

* * *

The day's classes were quick and boresome for Harry who had already taken the subjects. James had insisted on sitting next to him in every class, annoying Sirius to no end.

"Sirius... are you in pain?" Harry asked as History of Magic ended and Binns floated straight through the wall. Sirius raised his eyebrows and grunted, "No," then he cast the wide-eyed boy a look, "Why?"

There was a lame shrug in response and a moment of simple background noise of chattering students and shifting of parchment. To Harry, these were sounds of music lost, "You had _this_," and he proceeded to demonstrate by squeezing his eyes and pinching his mouth, "sort of look. It was rather funny."

Sirius felt his cheeks heat up and he pursed his lip stiffly, "I'd show you 'funny,' but you might lose an arm," he snapped, but only succeeded in making Harry laugh. But... it lifted Sirius's spirits... if not just a little.

They left the class, the others already in front of them and Sirius blinked as Harry waved to him and turned the other way, "Where are you going?" he called.

"The Hospital Wing. I need to talk to Madam Pomfrey about something," Harry answered easily and shook his hand at the boy, "Shoo, shoo. Go on ahead with the others. I'll be quick about it."

Like a dog would stick his tail between his legs, Sirius's bottom lip stuck out in a involuntary pout and his back hunched, "Don't tell me what to do Riddle," he began walking away, "Don't tell me to 'shoo' either."

Harry watched the back of Sirius with a fond, knowing smile. Only turning back around when the other disappeared behind a corner.

The trek up to the Hospital Wing was short and familiar and when he passed between the large twin doors, he saw Pomfrey who immediately came up to him and pressed a small bottle into his hands, "Your potion for tonight. I have a batch. I expect you to come up and get some once a week. _Every week._"

Harry smiled and nodded, cold sweat running down his neck, "Understood."

Madam Pomfrey wasn't particularly violent or short-tempered. But she enjoyed have a certain sense of control over the "special student that required visiting her on a daily basis."

"Madam Pomfrey, where's Remus?" Harry asked after a while. The woman smiled and cocked her head to the side, turning around in the direction of her office.

Harry quietly made his way to the only occupied bed in the room and looked down to find Remus sleeping soundly, his arms wrapped around the white blanket and face buried into it. With a soft sigh, Harry summoned a chair with his wand and sat down beside the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping other.

In the time of peace and silence, Harry tossed around the rather large bottle of Moth Dust that was to last him the entire week.

The potion itself was an unsavory shade of dark brown and if Harry looked hard enough, he could spot out black specks of some other unknown ingredient. (He figured he didn't want to know either.)

Then there was a groan and Harry nearly dropped the bottle in shock. He went deadly still, for reason he could not comprehend, and watched as Remus flipped over onto his back and looked at him with pinched eyes, "... Harry? What are you doing here?" he slurred tiredly, rubbing his palm over his eyes.

Placing the potion onto the bedside table for precaution, Harry leaned closer and rested his elbows over his knees comfortably, "I'm here to offer you some moral support. Must be boring, sleeping all day..."

Remus let out a small chuckle and closed his eyes with a sigh, "Mm..." he agreed, "But tired..."

He did sound tired, with a scratchy voice and dark bags under his eyes. Sweat plastered the blanket and pajamas to his skin and Harry helped when Remus shifted awkwardly to peel them off.

Without a thought, Harry chucked the old sheets behind him and grabbed the clean one from the other bed beside him. He gingerly tucked the honey-haired boy in and the corners of his lips quirked, "Well... first time I tucked in a bloke. Can't say if felt just right, but it wasn't bad."

"Haha, I should hope not!" Remus joked, a bit of his energy returning to him, but it left him as quick as it came. He fell deeper into the mattress with his movements and grunted when the movements became too wide and tiring for him, requiring Harry to help him around and find a good position to rest.

He found it face down on his stomach, "Thanks..." Remus mumbled from under the pillow. Harry laughed in response and shook his head, "It was no problem."

"I'm quite useless around this time so I might be a bit of a bother."

Harry shook his head in a negative, his smile friendly and sincere, "It's fine."

There was a moment of comfortable silence that was broken when Remus sniffed, "It's somewhat hard... to deal with this every month. Sometimes it's twice a month and it's horrible."

With a heavy sigh, Harry looked to his feet and fell deeper into the chair, "... your flu?" he asked. A hint of taunt slipped past his lips as he said it, and Harry bit his lip as the skinny figure in the bed stiffened.

Remus's heavy breathing filled up the empty, quiet Hospital Wing, "Yeah," he answered, voice strained and tight.

"It hurts sometimes... hm?"

A chuckle, covering a sob, "Yeah."

* * *

There was a certain fire that erupted in Harry's gut at that moment and he rushed down to the library, nearly forgetting his potion. Slipping behind a bookcase that near reached the ceiling in height, Harry fingered the spines of the many titles, muttering them under his breath.

At feeling the familiar fur cover of a certain text, Harry let out a pleased sound and pulled it out of its place between the other books. Holding it close to his chest, Harry made his way to a chair where he could properly enjoy.

"Um... Harry?"

At the call of his name, Harry's head shot up and around. It wasn't the best face to see as his former mood darkened considerably.

As if sensing the dangerous vibes coming off the other boy in waves, Peter winced and shifted nervously from one foot to another, "Um... I wanted to thank you for... last time."

Harry nodded, not speaking back and watched as Peter fidgeted. After a disturbing moment, Harry turned back around causing Peter to jump out at him and grip the collar of his robes, "Wait! Oh, sorry..." he released Harry, biting his lip and waiting for the choked coughs to cease.

Rubbing the front of his neck with an irritated glare, Harry put the book down on top of another shelf, "What do you want?"

"Oh... um... just... if you need anything, I'll be happy to help out and stuff. Like, are you researching something right now? I could help you out. I'm not very bright, but I'm very organized and I like taking notes! So-so-so... I could do something like that... or... anything you want! I... I just..." Peter looked down at the floor and gathered his hands before him, "Thank you..."

Harry was lost for words. He stared with wide eyes and plucked his glasses right off his nose and began to wipe them off leisurely. He checked the lenses in the light and put them back on when he found them clean. Peter was still standing there with his bowed head and red face.

An unexpected feeling of exhaustion caught up with the boy, and he rubbed his temple deliberately, "... c'mon, I've to get some of this done today."

Peter's head snapped up and a big grin on his round face was all Harry needed to see before smiling back and turning around, book in hand.

They found a table after walking around for empty chairs and spread everything out.

Peter was bent over a potions book, jotting down all ingredients with cleansing properties. Flipping through his book on werewolves, Harry's hand came up to cover his mouth and his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Gervase of Tilbury... founder of lycanthropy. How can lycanthropy be founded? Isn't it a disease?" Harry asked Peter who shrugged in answer.

But a wandering voice from behind answered Harry's question, "I suppose a first year wouldn't know. Lycanthropy was a form of curse that passes through the saliva. It was most deadly when it was a curse. But as time would have its toll, certain immunities have come up for it. So instead of forever being half-man and half-wolf, the holder would only become such during a full moon. Gervase of Tilbury was the only man on earth that knew this incantation. It's lost in history."

Harry had turned around in the middle of this explanation and pulled a face, "Thank you Malfoy. That was knowledgeable," he said testily, seeing as he was technically a seventh year and was showed up by a third year and a _Malfoy_ at that.

Lucius smirked, "You looked rather pitiful, huddled over the book like that and not properly knowing, so I figured I should educate you."

There was a shifting movement beside Harry as Peter pushed himself out of his seat and ran the other way out of the library.

The third-year Slytherin sighed and turned back to face Harry with raised eyebrows, "What is that useless lump doing in Gryffindor anyway? I thought better of you lot."

Harry blinked back and stood up, gathering all his notes and his book before walking over to Lucius and furiously rubbing his free hand into the other boy's neatly pulled hair.

Malfoy let out an strange squawk and his hand went for his wand in blind fury, but Harry was already bolting down the columns of books.

Harry could hear Malfoy cursing him from behind and looked down at his hands with a frown. He was never doing that again, "Pettigrew! Pettigrew!" he cursed his smaller body and pumped his legs to catch up to the light-haired boy.

Harry grunted and pulled the bottom of Peter's robes, successfully tripping the both of them. With a pained groan, Harry rubbed his knees and opened his mouth to curse his own stupidity, but was cut off by a whimper.

Hunched over on the floor in front of him was Peter, trembling like a blade of grass in a storm. Harry bit back his anger and disgust and let himself be over taken by a gentle form of pity for the boy. He leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, what are you crying for?"

With small difficulty, Harry pulled Peter to his feet and helped him out of the library, away from prying eyes.

They found themselves in some part of the castle Harry recognized as the stairs up to the Divination classroom. He let Peter place himself on the bottom step, his hands covering his face and back hunched.

"... are you still crying?"

Peter shook his head.

Harry waited, fiddling with a hole in his robe. Once Harry managed to probe his entire finger into the seam, Peter lifted his head.

His flattened nose was an ugly shade of red that matched the outer skin around his eyes. White marks where his fingers had buried themselves into could be distinctly picked out as well, and Peter was sniffing piteously, "Sorry," he said at once, voice nasal and high.

Harry licked his dry lips and looked up to the ceiling, "What's wrong with you?"

Peter jerked and bowed his head deeper, tears beginning to gather in his eyes again.

"Look, stop crying. You're a man too right?" voice rising into what Harry liked to call a commanding tone, he threw his hands up into the air and fell down on the step next to Peter, "I understand that what Malfoy did before was beyond cruel, and I'm not saying you should just hex him out right... at least not in front of a teacher," Harry smiled when Peter giggled from beside him, "But you shouldn't cower like that either. Do you _want_ to give Malfoy satisfaction that he had control over a Gryffindor? Do you want to shame the Gryffindor house?" Harry grimaced, he was beginning to sound like a muggle psychiatrist.

Peter weakly shook his head and lifted his dark eyes to meet Harry's, "But... I don't belong in Gryffindor..."

"The Sorting Hat is bound get you for that. That ragged piece that's disgusting to even put on your head now? That thing is a work of art. It doesn't get things wrong," Harry sighed, recalling his first sorting in where the hat wanted to put him into Slytherin before... perhaps it wasn't wrong, "And you, Peter Pettigrew, are a Gryffindor," But Harry wouldn't change his decision for the world.

The silence was thin and drifting between the two of them, waiting for Peter's reply. Harry realized he wouldn't get one as the boy shot up like a bullet and began his trek back to the Gryffindor Common Room, a new sense of pride rushing through him. And he turned back and flashed Harry a grin, "What are you doing just sitting there? C'mon, I've still got homework to finish."

And it was this moment that Harry sensed the innocence coming from Peter.

He _would_ save them all.

* * *

It was after curfew by the time Harry had finished giving his progress report to Dumbledore who began keeping a sort of log.

The castle was familiar to Harry even in the dark of night, having found himself roaming around the halls one too many times after when he was allowed.

But there was also this unmistakable sense of youth coming from the stone walls. Harry was pleased with it.

However, that was all Harry was pleased with as he spotted a head full of messy black hair skirt down the hall on his right. Breaking out into a run, Harry collided headfirst with himself.

Upon closer inspection, the figure that resembled him was in fact James Potter. It didn't make the situation any better, "What are you doing up?" Harry hissed.

"Same could be said to you," James replied cooly and brushed off the imaginary dust from his robes.

They both stopped at the shuffle of feet behind them and in a rush Harry grabbed James by his arm and pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. With a feeling of panic, Harry charmed the door lock and laid himself against the wall, James following his direction and doing so as well.

They both waited with bated breaths as a light from a fire came out from under the door, dancing and playing in the wind. The two heaved a sigh when it disappeared and replaced with shadow.

"Well... that was fun," James grumbled and pushed himself off the wall and reached out for the door.

Harry whacked his hand away, making the other boy yelp at the sharp pain and glared, "What now Harry? I'm busy—on a mission—that has nothing to do with you," he rushed out the last part in irritation and reached for the door again.

Harry intercepted and pushed himself between James and the door, "_What_ are you doing out here James Potter?"

"You're not my mother Riddle! Now get out of the way!"

"What are you doing up Potter?!"

It felt strange to say the least... screaming his own name at his father. It was definitely strange. Harry didn't want to do it again.

James stared down at the shorter, smaller boy with testy eyes before breathing out and growling in frustration, "Look, I only missed dinner because I fell asleep and none of your _friends_ seemed to have the decency to wake me up. So I'm hungry and tired and I don't have time to be arguing with you. Move, Harry."

Harry felt a moment of inner debate while his Gryffindor was battling with moral and winning... kicking severe arse, more like. Besides, noting every bad thing Harry did in his first year (battling a mountain troll, sneaking out for a duel, mirror of erised, philosopher's stone, etc. etc.) he really couldn't say no, "... you're going the wrong way. The kitchen is down the other hall and another floor down."

James raised an eyebrow and bit his lip, contemplating, "You want to come with me. I'm sure to get lost on my own."

"Haha, what would you do without me?"

"Well I would've been in McGonagall's room waiting for a detention by now," James shrugged, following Harry out of the empty classroom, "And starving as well."

"You're a wonder of the world James."

"Compliment?" Asked the owner of those deep hazel eyes shining from behind thick glasses.

Harry grinned like a fox, his heart skipping on how uncanny their resemblance would be at that moment, "No," and he left it at that.

* * *

By the time James had finished hassling the house elves and grabbing everything sweet within his vicinity, it was already two in the morning.

Harry had dragged James up to the tower by his robe as the boy was reluctant to move and felt completely satisfied with the ground in a way Harry was not.

There, he and James separated, making their way to their own beds and Harry smiled faintly at Xiaoue's sleeping form with his leg falling off the bed and covers kicked off.

Tiredly, he fell into his bed, not minding the squeak it made as he did so and pulled the sheets up to his neck.

He thought back to the talks he and James shared of childhood and laughed quietly into the dawn.

-be continued-

Title from Folder5's "Ready!"

**Edited: Monday, March 26, 2007**


	8. Year I: The Answer

Just some side notes: This fic is not a Manipulative!Dumbledore, Dark!Harry, or Super!Harry. This fic will be updated every Thursday, and somewhere deep inside... Xiaoue has become a nutcase in my eyes.

**007..."The Answer is Surely Somewhere Ahead."**

There was a small tussle upstairs, Lily figured, as the boys began to come into the common room one by one, their robes and hair a mess.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at the look on her face and scoffed, tossing his head to the two behind him, "It was their fault. Refused to wake up," he explained shortly.

Harry and James flushed a light pink and tossed Sirius a sharp glare (or at least James did...).

Lily smiled in good humor and ran her hands down the front of her robe, pressing it down neatly and turned around for the door.

Whether the boys followed her examples or not, she didn't know. But she saw their lame attempt to place their wild hair neatly against their scalp where it belonged, it really didn't help any.

Breakfast was normal, chatter around them, among different people, about different topics. Lily snagged Harry's attention before any of the boys got to him.

Harry was their group's favorite conversation partner. He had an air about him that felt like one an adult would have. Someone older, but someone who understood.

"You seemed very busy as of the late Harry. What are you studying?"

Harry smiled and and laid his eggs on top of a slice of toast neatly, "Mm, just something to get me ahead in classes. I reckon I need it since I'm slow the first time around."

"I doubt that Harry. You're a super genius," James commented from the side, his grin brightening up Harry's mood considerably, "Haha, super, maybe... genius, no."

"So what are you _super_ in?" James asked, adding a creative flourish of his hands.

Harry laughed in good humour, "I'm _super_," he imitated James's intricate hand movements, "in being a Gryffindor."

The response was something amazing as an upperclassman from just across him raised his goblet with a loud, "Hear that table? We have ourselves a super Gryffindor! To the _Super Gryffindor_!"

Harry and the rest of the first years watched in shock as the rest of them copied the other's maneuver and lifted their golden goblets, "_Hear! Hear!_"

It was only a good idea at this point that the first-years all raised their own class and with their high-pitched voices of adolescence repeated their seniors' motion, "_Hear! Hear!_"

Harry looked to the High Table and caught Dumbledore's smiling face and McGonagall's proud expression. The other House Tables have gone silent from where they sat and Harry grinned to the Slytherin group with a feeling of accomplishment that he hadn't felt towards them in ages.

Despite what the professors tend to believe, this rivalry between both houses proved itself to be healthy to Harry. The war was not Gryffindor version Slytherin. In fact, Harry had more than once found himself under the hex of fellow housemate.

And with the school-day spat between the two houses, things ran smoother with allies. Slytherins that fought against Voldemort knew their enemies as well as their allies. Seven years of childish banter taught them what they had to know about the people around them.

So Harry's battle with Draco, wands pointed at the other's head, had been one of the hardest to fight.

Harry smirked at Snape's amused expression standing out from the rest of the confused and disgusted faces. He raised his cup to his lips and muttered_, "Hear, hear._"

* * *

It was is the midst of Potions class when Severus told Harry to meet in the library after classes. Although he was stalled by Peter who wanted to have a friendly chat with the other boy. Harry did feel bad about cutting the boy off short, but he knew Snape wasn't known for his patience or forgiving nature. 

So Harry wasn't really surprised to find Snape actively ignoring him for the first fifteen minutes after his arrival, "I'm really sorry Snape. It happens sometimes y'know? Being late is a man thing, I'm sure you understand."

At this Severus raised a dark eyebrow and his eyes narrowed in disbelief, "On the contrary Riddle, I do not understand."

"What are you then? A woman?"

It came from Harry's mouth before he could stop himself, and a hand immediately slapped itself over his lips a second later. Severus stared without a word, black eyes piercing the other boy like knives, and he swiftly gathered up his books and hitched his bag over his shoulder.

Harry gasped and slammed his hands over Snape's books and notes that spread out over the table and shook his head, "No, wait. I'm sorry, Snape. I didn't mean it," Harry tried, allowing the desperate tone to slip past, "We have to get started on that potions soon, you know it too. I didn't mean to say it. Please... I need your help on this."

"I don't know why you need my help to look through silly potions book and jot down useless, pointless information," Severus hissed, nostril flaring in irritation.

Harry cocked a grin and gently pulled Snape back to his seat by his wrists and waited until the boy gave in and sat, "I know you think we're going nowhere with simple research, but we do need the basic information before we take it up a notch."

Severus leaned back into his chair and let his bag slide off his shoulder to the ground with a heavy thump as he peered at Harry with raised eyebrows, "A notch? Meaning practical experiments," he guessed, "And how actually exactly do you intend to conjure up a lab to work in?"

The smirk that spread over Harry's young face seemed out of place and arrogant, almost Malfoy-ishly smug, "I know of a room."

And it was only within minutes that Snape found his jaw loosening and hanging wide open as Harry opened the door to the Room of Requirements that had conveniently turned itself into a potions lab.

Harry watched silently as Snape walked around the room, running his hands all over the golden cauldron centered in the middle, "... well... you exceeded my expectations, that's for sure."

"What? You figured I'd raid Slughorn's lab didn't you?" Harry laughed loudly, only having it dim when he saw Snape's expression become as sheepish as it got, "... you did."

* * *

Severus and Harry left each other as they departed from the Room of Requirements, heading for their respective houses. 

"Harry," Xiaoue grinned up at the boy from his place on the scarlet couch when Harry walked into the Common Room. Returning the smile, Harry nodded and walked over to the other, "Hello, what are you doing?"

Xiaoue pulled a face and showed Harry the parchment in his hands, "Letter from my old folks. Salutations and congratulations and all the other proper stuff that a good and loving parent should do."

He sounded sarcastic and unlike himself, Harry fell down into the space next to him, "And what else?" he questioned softly. Xiaoue didn't look surprised at Harry's question, only troubled as he folded the letter back into the envelope and bit his lip, "My eldest sister, Brenda, is going through divorce with her second husband. They're fighting over custody of her children."

"Why not share custody? They can switch back and forth."

"Well... they really don't want anything to do with the other... seeing as Brenda's ex is a muggle. Didn't take too well with Brenda's true disposition. So he wants the children with his normal, mugglish life. Conflict. Drives the family wild."

Harry smiled weakly, Xiaoue's scorn was strong as he talked of his eldest sister's husband. The hate was unsettling, "Brenda, hm? I expected something a bit more... oriental."

Running his hand through black hair, Xiaoue shrugged, "Eh. It's complicated," he finished stiffly and Harry nodded, "I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I figure I might have to at some point. It's not a secret or anything so I don't really care," he motioned Harry to make himself comfortable as Xiaoue was already was in the process of doing so.

The common room wasn't empty, but they were the only two sitting in front of the fire, their legs propped up towards the gentle flame. Xiaoue sighed and replaced the letter back into his robe pocket, "I originally born in China. Complications arose, my blood parents were arrested for defying the government when I was around two."

"So your 'Mum' and 'Pa' aren't your real parents?"

Xiaoue flushed slightly and shook his head, "No, but they're great. Brilliant people, though they clash. Arguments all over the place," he laughed fondly at memories, which faded as quickly as it came, "... I was adopted by muggles. And I... guess I scared them off. Y'know... children and accidental magic," he shook his head grimly and Harry laughed, knowing what he meant, "I set their house on fire."

The confession was a splash of cold water on Harry, "You... what?"

"Set their house on fire. They lost me in it. Hid in the closet, scared to death. Cried for what I was worth... scared to death," Xiaoue repeated, gathering his hands into his lap and tentatively licked his lips, "Mum found me in the closet in the midst of everything burning down and I went home with her. I owed her my life, and now my life debt is to live in her house as her son. Good deal if you want my opinion," his breath hitched in laughter, "Can't really say that I'm pureblood seeing as Mum and Pa aren't by blood. So I could be a muggleborn... can't be sure." he trailed off and Harry caught the underlying comment. It wasn't his sister's divorce or his family's current banter that concerned him...

"... Sirius's comment affected you didn't it?"

Xiaoue smiled sheepishly and shrugged, "But... I'm glad that you stood up for those people Harry."

It was heartwarming to say the least and Harry couldn't help but to hold the taller first-year in a friendly hug, one that Xiaoue awkwardly returned by patting Harry's back, "You're a good friend Xiaoue," Harry commented.

Xiaoue shrugged in response and flipped his fringe back, "I know I am."

Harry opened his mouth to counter Xiaoue's pompous statement, but was cut short when the common room door swung open soundly and Professor McGonagall stood in the center of the gaping hole in the wall, "Mr. Riddle. If you have a moment."

Harry pursed his lips and nodded. He waved to Xiaoue as he left and trailed behind McGonagall like a pet, "Where are we going Professor?" He silently wondered if she was listening to their conversation. By the tight look on her face, Harry could only guess that she had.

"To the Headmaster."

With a curt nod, the boy silently walked behind his transfiguration professor from time forward and time back. The walk to the Headmaster's office was quick and familiar and with a password in the form of a sweet, the protector gargoyle leapt out McGonagall's way and let the witch through, "Come Mr. Potter," she called by his true name, sure that no one was listening.

Harry didn't need the prompting as he was waiting patiently for the winding staircases to stop and lead their way to the Headmaster's office. It did so in a matter of seconds passing and McGonagall opened the door after a short series of knocks.

"Ah, Minerva, Mr. Potter. Please, take a seat," Dumbledore motioned to the plush, cushion chairs in front of him. Harry eagerly fell into the scarlet one, sighing comfortably when it swallowed him up. Dumbledore smiled gently, "Thank you for joining me Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded dumbly, "Professor Dumbledore... can you promise me you'll keep these chairs 'til I'm in Hogwarts again?" he asked hopefully. Dumbledore chuckled fondly and lightly shrugged his shoulders, "We shall see."

"But..." Harry straightened, face becoming straight with seriousness, "Why have you called me here?"

The elder wizard inclined his head tiredly and looked out the window, "How has it been so far, Mr. Potter?"

"... I've supplied myself with a decent room for potion making. Although I do require some ingredients, perhaps later. Research is going along quickly. I have S... Severus Snape and Peter Pettigrew helping me out with that. ... it _is_ Severus, right?" Harry asked. He had no reason to learn his unlikable Potions Professor's given name before.

Dumbledore nodded, recognization twinkling in his eyes, "Ah, yes. Mr. Snape, a Slytherin, no?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, good," the wizard pushed his half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his nose, "It is good that you are making friends, Mr. Potter."

Dumbledore said this before as well. During their dinner in the summer where Harry had blown his top and ran off. A cold chill ran down his stomach, "... Professor..."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"... You've... all you've been is... kind to me. I understand your distrust and these weekly—daily... occasional visits are necessary. But... even so you have brought me to Hogwarts and taken me under your wing.. I—thank you. I've been an ungrateful, little prat."

Dumbledore stiffened, feeling some warmth come to his face and heart at the boy's apology and his shoulder shook with silent laughter, "Yes, you have. But Mr. Potter... I forgive you. Afterall... time travel is stressful business."

Harry's young face looked bright and full with pleasure at receiving Dumbledore's forgiveness and looked down to his shoes awkwardly.

"But," The aged wizard continued, "Frequent visits are still necessary... and encouraged."

Harry rolled his eyes and flashed a smile, "Yes, sir."

"Now," Dumbledore ran his hand through his beard in rote, "I've called you in to discuss Mr. Lupin. I assumed you knew about him. Am I correct?"

"... about him being a werewolf, sir?"

"Precisely, now, Mr. Lupin needs a location for his transformation. And although I did say that I don't care much for the future at this moment... where exactly did we place him?"

It was somewhat... charming. Dumbledore was fidgeting with his beard, flipping it between his fingers like a toy. Harry hid his face as to not tell the man he was smirking, "Um... well. You put him in the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. But, I don't know if that was the same before the Wolfsbane Potion..."

Dumbledore nodded, his head bouncing up and down rhythmically like rubber ball, "Yes, yes. Although the Shrieking Shack is rather aged, it does have many protection spells keeping it from falling down after a light storm."

"So that's what it was. I always thought it was suspicious to see that lump of rotten wood still standing after Volde—" Harry gulped and placed a hand over his mouth in surprise. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but let it slide, "I shall talk to Madam Pomfrey and have him moved immediately."

"H-Headmaster," Harry winced at his stammering, "Could I... Could I come with you?"

The Headmaster looked down at Harry with his pointed nose, meeting the boy's wide, wishful eyes. Dumbledore shook his head negatively and his former Golden-Boy slumped in disappointment, "I'm afraid we still need you here Mr. Potter. It is not yet time for you to leave Hogwarts."

"... yes sir."

"Now, Minerva, if you wouldn't mind taking him back to the Gryffindor Commons?"

Harry shook his head and headed for the door without waiting for McGonagall, "It's fine. I'll lead myself back," he grumbled.

He was pouting, and acting like the 11-year old he was. Perhaps the body and its hormonal imbalances was affecting his mind? Harry rubbed his arm as he walked back down the winding staircase, something he used to do back in the war when he had a giant gash on it. It soothed him, feeling the bumps of his healing skin... but it was no longer there and the scratchy robes rubbing over his smooth arm was a bad replacement.

Harry met the Fat Lady and gave her the password, stepping into the Common Room when her portrait swung open.

He saw everyone, huddled together what looked like a bunch of Harry's notes that he gave out to Sirius before classes.

"Oh! Harry! You're back!" Lily looked up to greet the boy who smiled in return. Everyone else stayed where they were and lifted their heads to wave or recognize him.

Seeing his Book of Light placed near the couch, Harry picked it up and fell back into the scarlet sofa, the sixth year on the other end ignored him skillfully and continued to do something that looked like homework.

Minutes passed with rustling papers, quiet conversations, and the occasional loud noise that would come from the dormitories.

Harry was startled from his thoughts when James fell on top of him, "What are you doing?!" he squeaked and fell off the couch from his frantic squirms. Xiaoue's laughter followed him.

James tossed Harry an apologetic glance as he picked himself off the floor, but laughed along with his friends and the few upperclassmen that managed to catch their antics, "Sorry, Harry. But you were being boring. Reading books all day long. ...why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" he interrogated playfully.

"Because he's in Gryffindor," Sirius snorted in disgust and gathered up Harry's notes neatly, handing them back to the boy, "Thanks for these Riddle."

Harry laughed and took the parchment from the sardonic boy, "Must you challenge everyone, Sirius?"

"Only idiots."

* * *

Later that night, when everyone else had departed for bed, Harry sat up alone leafing through his book of light on the couch. 

The last Gryffindor had left about an hour ago and Harry sat in the Commons alone.

A howl came from outside, sending cold chills down Harry's arm and all sleepiness left him as he looked out the window in wonder. If that was Remus...

Unable to read, he pressed down the corner of the page and let the text fall out of his hands and onto the floor. He waited patiently. Weeks of practice allowed him to do it as he had to spend hours and even nights just waiting quietly without noise or movements in the shelter of the trees from Death Eaters.

The sun was seen, peeking out from behind a green hill and Harry started when a sound came from the portrait door. Remus tiptoed in, blood running down his face and wound down his naked body. He froze when he saw Harry on the couch, "H-Harry..." he whispered, face paling and trembling in fear. He was wounded and dirty with mud caked all over his bony body. He was almost as bad as Harry, ribs prominent under the waxy skin and his stomach caved in disturbingly. Harry sighed and kicked off the covers that were laid over his legs, "Let's get you cleaned up."

He helped the boy up the stairs and into the boys' showers. Pulling out the healing salve Pomfrey had given him, Harry let the werewolf soak under the warm streaming water and pulled off his own robes and shirt, "Why didn't you go to the hospital wing?" he waited for an answer, and sighed when he realized that he wouldn't get one.

Harry sat behind Remus and frowned at how the boy stiffened. He began to rub the salve over the larger gashes, it's clear globs sinking into the broken skin and beginning the healing process. The sound of running water was almost nerve-breaking for Harry as Remus shook under his hands.

"H-Harry..." the sob that was wrenched from the 11-year old was heartbreaking, "Please... please don't tell anyone... it happened w-when I was little... a-and... I didn't want... I didn't..."

"Shh... it's fine."

"No, no, no it's not. It's not fine. It's never going to fine. It's forever Harry... I'll be a monster my entire life. I should be locked up... you shouldn't be helping me... you should be hating—"

"Remus, shush. You're just confused and scared. I won't be hating you."

"You should... you should hate monsters. Mum and Dad did."

"You're panicking. Calm down... just... shush," Harry continued to spread the cream. Remus stopped shaking.

"... Harry, you're mad. Barking mad... no normal kid would stay up all night and heal the resident werewolf," Remus snorted weakly and watched as the wet boy came around him and began to wash the blood off his face... like a parent would do to a child. A warmth spread through Remus's chest.

"Well, the resident werewolf happens to be my buddy. I'd be barking mad if I didn't heal him. Especially since he didn't have sense enough to go to the hospital wing first?" Harry gave Remus a pointed look, one that the other boy avoided.

"... made me go into panic attack. You must think I'm barmy."

"Well you spilled your deepest secrets with me. Barmy or not, I now have a promise to keep with you."

"... I know you won't tell."

Harry stood and shut the water off, grimacing at his soaked trousers and handed a clean towel to Remus, "Here, carefully dry yourself off." Remus followed his instructions obediently.

Harry also took on drying himself off, stripping himself naked and unconsciously glaring down at his flimsy body. He walked over to the sink lined with cups and different colored toothbrushes all over. Harry pulled out spare robes from under the counter and tossed one to Remus, "No trousers or anything like that down here, but you can manage, hm?"

"Sure."

They changed and buttoned the robe shut. Remus allowed himself to lean on Harry as he was led out of the bathroom, limping and stumbling all the way.

The pair were exhausted by the time Remus was gently laid down in bed and his covers were drawn up to his chin. The pain in his eyes caused Harry to linger with the werewolf for just a few minutes longer, staring down at him with sad eyes, "... if there was a way to fix this... would you want it?"

The tears that he fought so long to hold back, erupted loose and Remus let them, "Yes."

Harry went to bed, blood rushing, adrenaline pumping, and heart screaming in his chest.

-be continued-

The chapter title came from "Hikari E" by The Babystars

**Edited: Monday, March 26, 2007**


	9. Year I: My Colors

I'm hoping to write more about Quidditch.

**008..."I Want to Paint that White Sky with My Colors"**

Because of tending to Remus, Harry only caught an hour of sleep before he was shoved out of his bed and James, Sirius, and Xiaoue's loud laughter echoed in the background. He vowed to sacrifice them to the Giant Squid in some form of mad ritual.

But for now he settled with whipping his wand out from under his pillow and tackling two of them with the tickling charm. He cracked his eyes open to see Sirius and James holding onto their stomach and floor, gasping for breath through their wild giggles, "Serves you right."

James reached out to the other boy, tears running down his face, "B-but—H-Harry! Hahaha—i-it's flying today!"

At "flying" Harry found himself fully awake and popped open his trunk, grabbed some of his clothes before disappearing behind the bathroom door. Sirius and James was choking and crying out to Harry, begging him to stop the charm.

Being a minor spell, "_Rictusempra" _faded before Harry left the bathroom, fully dressed and excited. He visited Remus for a while, but did not bother the sleeping boy, then followed the others down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Harry listened, stabbing at his eggs, while Xiaoue and James argued about brooms and Quidditch teams.

"Tutshill Tornadoes!" Xiaoue ripped his toast in half when James snorted and shook his head, "They haven't won a proper game yet. Besides, have you seen their brooms? As old as Dumbledore."

Brooms... Quidditch... Harry smiled to the other by his side; Sirius Black who had given him his Firebolt. His first present from his godfather. Sirius raised a quizzical eyebrow at Harry.

He still had his Firebolt... somewhere in the future in The Burrow. Possibly stuffed under Ron's mattress where they kept it for safe-keeping. But he's been kept away from playing Quidditch since his 6th Year. And with the war happening, Quidditch just became a burden.

After breakfast, all of the first years rushed out onto the grounds in excited chatter. Harry couldn't stop his rapidly beating heart either.

Getting the students to mount their brooms and not have any accidents seemed to be a relief for Madam Hooch. And after experiencing the the infamous "Neville Incident," Harry had to agree.

Harry felt the temptation to just soar high, fast, and wild enough to break off all the twigs from his broom rising in his stomach. He saw the same glint in James's eyes.

So they dived. The screams from the less experienced children was immediate and Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle like no tomorrow.

But everything was deaf on their ears, except for the wind. The howling wind that fought against their bodies, but even if this wasn't Harry's Firebolt, it felt good to be flying.

James grinned from beside him and they looped around each other, near touching. And Harry performed every small trick he knew of: Sloth Grip Roll, Wronski Feint, Double Eight Loop, simple shimmying, before he reached the ground.

He laughed as his knees gave out from under him and the grass tickled his fingers.

"Mr. Riddle, are you alright?" Madam Hooch helped him to his feet, catching him when he wobbled.

Harry was still laughing so he couldn't find the breath to answer. He realized he didn't have to, when James fell down to the ground next to them with a grin that matched the other boy's, "Sure he's okay! It's adrenaline. Too much excitement Harry?"

"In one sense of the word... yes," Harry pushed himself out of Hooch's arms and smiled at the woman, "I'm sorry, Madam Hooch. I really couldn't stop myself."

"Well had you gone and hurt yourself, that's when you'd get yourself in trouble. But now all you'll get is an earful from me," her stern expression dropped and was replaced by a fond smile, "But you fly excellently boy. I hope to see in the Quidditch try-outs next year."

"Yes ma'am," Harry relaxed and allowed himself to be taken inside and let Hooch's ranting begin. (James wasn't off the hook either, he was red-faced and more than slightly pouting by the time Hooch finished with him.)

The class ended later and Harry and James weren't allowed on a broom after Hooch had finished. It didn't bother him, he preferred having his feet on the ground when he was trying to breathe slowly.

Talking to James at the back of their group, Harry didn't notice when Lily slid back next to him and blinked in surprise when she tapped him on the shoulder, "That was really impressive flying Harry. I couldn't even stay a foot off the ground."

Harry blushed in pleasure at the compliment, "Thanks Lily."

At this friendly exchange, James put himself between Harry and Lily with a small pout, sticking a finger at his own chest, "I did just as well."

"Yes, but Harry doesn't _gloat_ about it, Potter!"

"Evans!"

Harry decided to step in before their banter became ugly and an unfair fight for James, "We should catch up with Sirius and Xiaoue. Y'know... lunch and all... they might stuff themselves silly."

"I heard that Riddle!"

* * *

It was later in the afternoon when Harry met Snape again in the library. He politely greeted Madam Pince as she walked past and settled himself into the chair across from him, "How are you today?"

"Hn," Snape grunted.

They pulled out their notes and Harry took the liberty of saving some books on magical plants and cleansing properties in potions. He spread these over the desk. Quietly they bent over the parchment and began their small discussion over them.

"Aconitum..." Snape muttered under his breath.

"The flower?"

The look in Snape's eyes was strange as he looked at Harry as if he were some sort of slug, "... yes... the flower. Monkshood?"

"... I've heard of it. Um... where have I—"

"Riddle, please! Have you at _least_ flipped through your Potions book?"

Truth be told... Harry didn't pay much attention to the thing. Only for ingredients, directions, and generally carrying around for classes. So he shrugged in response to Snape's question, irritating the Slytherin.

Snape bowed his head, holding his forehead in his hands and rubbed them tiredly. At times... Harry was just a plain, old genius... but why was he like this in potions?

"Aconitum... also known as _monkshood_," he pursed his lip while narrowing his eyes at Harry, "It paralyzes nerves to pain, touch, and the like, after stimulating them. It's used as anesthetic."

"... Ana-what?" Harry repeated softly, confusion the prominent expression on his sharp face.

"Anesthetic," Snape repeated, rolling his eyes with a sneer, "A dope."

Harry's lips made a small circular shape as his mind clicked in realization. Put in that simple word, anyone would've understood Snape's point, "What does that have to do with what we're aiming for?"

"Idiot! Of course this would be needed to drug up a werewolf enough so they don't know up from down, much less prey from tree," Snape spat, slamming his hand down on the table and startling the few occupants around them. He lowered his voice cautiously, "We'd need a significant amount, however... they're just animals, but with a stronger immunity to magic. You know all of this, correct?"

Harry bobbed his head up and down in an affirmative. Snape looked slightly relieved, "Good, now other than that, I found a strong cleansing property in these," he pointed to a picture on the propped open potions book. Harry nodded, "It says here that it's best when not touched by anything solid, outside the cauldron it says."

"... can't touched by...? You mean like different ingredients?"

Harry shook his head, and flipped the book back so Snape could read it properly, "Unicorn Horn. One of the most potent and pure potions ingredients. But most of the time, it isn't taken to a decent level and is very pricey, because its magical property decreases when it's stirred with a stirring rod. People buy large amounts, so they can make up with one."

"... we don't have the money," Snape informed grimly. Harry mimicked his expression and nodded, "Unless we stir we wandless magic—"

The idea was lurking around Snape's mind as well, but reality caught up with him, unlike Harry, "We're first years, Riddle."

Harry stopped himself mid sentence and went back to staring at the shining image with a hint of disdain on his face, '_Well... all I'm able to do is blow up my aunt anyway...'_ he lightly touched the white horn decorated with golden lines that wound around it. But Harry saw unicorns before, this picture didn't do them justice, "What do we do?"

Snape didn't answer him and flipped the page, looking for a different solution. Harry resigned to fate and grabbed another text, as determined as Snape was in creating this new potion. Several new ideas were brought up, all written down on parchment... none as good as the prior ingredient.

With a promise to meet in their make-shift lab on Saturday, Harry grit his teeth with a new mission on mind: To find someone who was able to perform some small bit of wandless magic. Enough to control and touch solid items.

On his way back up to the common room, Harry blinked when a tuft of red disappeared behind the corner. His heart thumped and blood ran to his face as a name screamed in his head, "Ron..." he gasped and chased after it.

But "Ron" didn't go as far as Harry thought, when he ran headfirst into a hard back and fell to the ground. He looked up, seeing the head move his way. Red, red hair, red, red ears, and glasses.

Harry's heart dropped. This was not Ron Weasley. Hell... he wasn't even born yet.

"Are you okay?" Arthur Weasley bent down next to the fallen Harry, helping him up, "Oh, I knocked your books all over the place. Sorry, I'll pick them up—"

"No, it's fine. I'll get it, " Harry muttered, gathering up all his discarded notes and books in disappointment. But Arthur Weasley... Harry sneaked a glance. He was tall and lanky with heavy, out-of-style glasses on the bridge of his nose that was sprinkled with freckles. He had a large forehead and his bright red hair did nothing to hide it.

Arthur paused in his chore and he looked over a parchment filled with tiny script. Harry, in panic, hurriedly ripped it from the other's hands and stammered an apology.

Arthur straightened and watched Harry with a careful eyes as he finished up, "... werewolves aren't a first year subject. And I sincerely doubt that you would have such a deep interest in them... without good reasoning."

Harry looked up cautiously and blinked at the Head Boy badge glinting in the torch light, "Head Boy...?" he asked. Arthur flushed a pleased pink and nodded, "Yeah, Arthur Weasley, seventh year, Head Boy," but he shook his head and frowned, "Don't try to change the subject! What are you doing with all this?" he referred to the notes gathered in Harry's arms.

"Nothing special. I was just curious—"

"Look, studying is good, but it's my job to make sure you have some fun at Hogwarts too, within rules of course..." Arthur trailed off purposely, a wide grin on his face that so much resembled his twin sons'. Harry winced at the memory and looked down at his kicking shoe, "It's just research..." he said hesitantly.

"... for what?"

Harry looked up, a hard glint in his green eyes and he licked his dry lips, "If I tell you... will you help me?" Arthur looked troubled and stepped back unconsciously, brows furrows, "I don't..."

"Are you any good in wandless magic?"

Arthur shook his head, "Not excellent. People take classes for something like that. I never made it... wanted to be an auror... magic control isn't too good..." he snapped out of his daze, "What does that have to do with you pushing yourself?"

"I'm not—! Nevermind... but can you at least... stir, uh... water with it?" Harry asked hopefully, wringing his fingers while struggling to hold his books and notes. Arthur shrugged in response, "I don't know, and stop avoiding my question."

"I'm not avoiding your question. I said I'll tell you if you can help me!"

"Look, kid..." he sneaked a glance at the name tag on the front of Harry's robes, "Riddle. If... you're doing anything remotely dangerous... or worse, illegal. I can't help you, and I would still expect you to tell me."

Harry rolled his eyes and hitched the notes up, "If brewing potions is illegal now, then I suppose you'll turn me in."

"Potion? I'm truthfully no good in potion..."

"Oh don't worry about that, I'm good enough for the both us, "he lied, "I just need someone with a good grasp on wandless magic."

It was no doubt that Arthur's curiosity was piqued now, "... why? What potion are you making?" he blinked, eyes abnormally large behind thick glasses. Harry pushed his own up and smiled impishly, "We're making our own. With different properties and everything."

"We?"

Harry winced and inwardly cursed at the slip, "... um, just... someone else helping me with it."

Thankfully, Arthur didn't pry, only nodded, "I see... what would be in it for me?" he asked, eyes shining with alertness. Harry shrugged, racking up every memory he had of Arthur Weasley and nervously chuckled, "Um... eh... Muggle studies? Are you taking the class? If not... I could... teach you myself? Y'know... elektrity—I mean electricity and stuff. I am... a half-blood... after all."

Arthur contemplated, a look of silent wonder on his face as he stared down at Harry with a finger on his chin, "... I see. So you are knowledgeable on the area. Perhaps it would be interesting, I am fascinated by muggles. Hmm... we'll see."

"So... you won't... tell anyone right?"

"Does McGonagall know?"

"... Dumbledore does."

That seemed to satisfy the red head as he grinned and clapped his hands, "Alright then. I'll do something about this, it might be a great help for me as well, being dreadful at magic control."

"Do you... do you know the basics?"

Arthur nodded surely, "Yeah, it takes patience and a lot of effort to reach the magical core and successfully tap into it without letting out too much magic or too little. Moving physical things is easier than casting actual magic with it."

"Because you have to know what you wanna do?"

The corner of Arthur's smile twitch and he shrugged, "Yeah... something like that. But hey, you're a first-year, you still have a lot of time so don't waste it all studying," he messed up Harry's hair in a friendly manner, laughing as he did.

Slightly peeved at having his "tamed" hair mused again, Harry stared with narrow eyes at Arthur's departing form as he continued his walk down the hall.

He turned the other way and stomped up the stairs to the Hospital Wing.

From the amount of times Harry walked in and out of the large room made up with clean, white sheet beds and countless potions along with one fussy medi-witch... he was bound to be part of the background by now.

He greeted Madam Pomfrey who spared him a soft smile and cocked her head toward the bed closest to the wall as she usually did. During the middle of the day, after Harry told McGonagall of his and Remus's late-night/early morning encounter, she look responsibility of forcing the boy up the the sick wing. Remus didn't appreciate it, but was too tired to talk back.

"Mr. Riddle, if you could help Mr. Lupin with the salve? Can I trust you with the task?" Madam Pomfrey inquired, tossing a small beaker in her hands filled with a clear jelly. Harry smiled and outstretched his hand.

After obtaining the healing balm Harry happily made his way over to Remus's bed, the sickly boy awake and looking at him expectantly, "You ratted me out didn't you?" he accused.

Harry laughed and ungracefully fell down onto the bed next to his, "Hence why you're here and not still suffering back in the dorm," he popped open the cork at the top, "Take off your shirt and face your back to me."

Remus nodded, gingerly pushing his body up with small grunts of pain and attempting to pull the hospital wear over his head. But the injuries that cover his body caused him to stiffen in the sharp pain that it caused and the blood acted as an adhesive on the shirt to his back, causing the wound to tear at his stronger pulls.

Harry set the potion down and bent forward to help him undress, tossing the bloody shirt on the ground with a face, "You should tell me it hurt."

"It's kinda hard to miss," Remus muttered, glaring amber eyes at the discarded clothing. Harry rolled his eyes and grasped the beaker off the table and poured a handful into his hand, slapping it on the werewolf's back.

Flinching away in surprise, Remus hissed and shuddered dramatically, "That's _cold_."

"Haha, it's to be expected! You've been in a warm bed all day."

"I would enjoy it if I didn't have to get out of my warm bed and have cold, whatever pasted all over me."

Harry smirked, a playful light flashing in his eyes as he poured a small content of the potion down the bloodied back, causing Remus to squeak and scoot away, "I wouldn't complain if I were you, Remus Lupin."

Remus pulled a face in response, "It's sort of late though, isn't it? Are you finished with homework?"

"Yeah, everything done. But if you don't want me to come visit you on such lonely hours, then I'll just—"

Remus twisted at the hip, his back pulling and stretching the skin. Harry hissed in warning but stopped at the stern look in the other's face, "Thank you, Harry. I'm being serious, thank you for everything."

They spent a moment in silence in that way, pinching their lips in confusion and pain, before Harry placed gentle hands on Remus's thin shoulders and turned him back around, "It was a joke. Don't take it so seriously..." he wiped the skinny line of blood that trailed down his hand off his trousers, "But... you're welcome." _Anything for you... anything for you..._

* * *

After letting Madam Pomfrey replace the formerly dirtied shirt and tuck the exhausted boy in, Harry left for his own bed up at the Gryffindor tower. He stumbled into the dormitory that he shared with some of the other first year boys and fell down onto his bed.

This noise roused the Chinese boy next to him and he blinked sleepily up at Harry's shadowed silhouette, "Harry?" he called.

"Xiaoue..."

"Hm?"

For a second, Harry's breath quickened and his blood rushed and his mouth... his mouth was twitching with the need to spill everything and ruin everyone's lives with the truth of his own. Their deaths, their children's deaths... Harry gulped, "Goodnight."

"Night Harry..."

-be continued-

Title from "Chiisana Uta" by MARIA.

**Edited: Tuesday, March 27, 2007**


	10. Year I: Knowing Eternity

I think every fic needs a "Sirius—Serious" joke. :D And this chapter is rather short...

**009..."Knowing Eternity, Whatever Darkness and Pain I Will Overcome"**

The rest of the week went by, doused with the homework, studies, and friends. Remus came back from the hospital wing the next day, but chose to spend his extra time catching up on the homework he missed.

Rushing through his own homework easily, Harry challenged Sirius to a game of Exploding Snaps. Sirius easily won the game and refused to play with "the guy who can't even follow the rules correctly." (Ron had a habit of changing the rules to his own liking... Harry adapted to it and often had to remember what was allowed... and what wasn't.)

During the small banter, mostly on Sirius's part, Lily picked up Harry's book of Light Magic and flipped through it casually, "Are you planning on becoming a Light Lord, Harry?" she joked, eyes not leaving the book.

Harry laughed in response and shook his head, '_I could technically be considered one already... killing Voldemort has to count for something...'_

But losing countless lives didn't.

"Harry?" Lily blinked when the boy stiffened. She reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her with his bright eyes.

"I'm fine," he placed his own hand on top of her's, making the red-head blush to her ears, "Will you help me memorize all the useless names from my History of Magic notes?"

Lily jerked a nod, trying to ignore the warmth of the other's hand, "Yeah, I'll help," she smiled awkwardly and hurriedly pulled away from Harry to dig out her notes from her bag. Harry dismissed her strange reactions and turned to Sirius with a grin, "Want to study with us?"

"If I hear any more of these stupid wars again, I will bleed from the ears, evidence that my brain is crying from the work overload."

"Ah... still too green."

Sirius shot a glare and inched towards Harry threateningly, "What is 'too green?'" demanded, irked at Harry's casual smirk. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Harry reach forward and flicked Sirius on the forehead, "You, Silly Sirius. Can't even concentrate right can you? Green, green, green."

Sirius jumped Harry at that point, grabbing the glasses off his face and tossing it to the side, but before he could even begin to flick the boy back, Harry's hands found themselves at Sirius's side and began to tickle him relentlessly.

Despite his cool exterior, Sirius seemed to be horribly ticklish and fell back to escape the twitching fingers, out of breath and chuckling softly, "Cheater..." he accused. Harry merely shrugged and ran his hands all over the floor for his glasses.

Sirius kicked them aside.

"What'd you do that for!"

"Hm, don't think you need them much," he sneered and pinched the bridge of Harry's nose, "'Sides, this way you can't study either and you'll be as_green_ as I am."

"Haha, you're hilarious, Sirius. Contrary to your name. ... where did you hide my glasses?"

With slight guilty pleasure, Sirius did nothing to help Harry in his frantic search and simply watched him from his spot on the floor. Harry was heading off into the opposite direction.

"Harry! Where are the n—what are you doing on the ground?" Lily walked over to the boy, Harry's books in her hands. The boy looked up at her with a frown and sniffed, "Sirius hid my glasses."

Lily blinked over to where Sirius sat and growled, "Where are they?" she demanded. Sirius made no move to retrieve the spectacles, he instead stretched out and sighed, "You should stop babying Riddle, Evans. He'll become _green._"

"... green?" she looked to Harry who stopped his search to glare at Sirius. The boy rubbed the red mark on his nose irritatingly, "Look, just... drop it okay? God, if I knew you were one to hold things like that..." but he frowned in a manner that looked thoughtful, '_...he never did give up on killing Wormtail for 13-years now that I remember...'_

Sirius heaved a breath and reached over to where Harry's glasses were kicked aside and threw them at the boy, successfully nicking his arm in the process, "Sorry," he said hastily, "But really... I'm one to hold a grudge so you'd best watch it. ... it runs in the family."

"Thanks for the late warning," Harry grumbled, slipping his glasses on casually and blinking to get his eyes adjusted. He looked to Lily with a kind smile, "And those notes.."

* * *

It was late when he met up with Snape in the Room of Requirement... but Arthur had no problem with it, strangely enough, and Snape seemed to have little problem making his way up to the room.

Although seeing Lucius Malfoy by his side as they entered was something totally different.

Arthur stiffened like a board and twitched awkwardly; Harry caught his movements out of the corner of his eye, "What's he doing here?" he asked with a frown. Arthur nodded briskly in agreement.

"... the same could be said for him." Snape jutted his chin out to where the red-headed seventh year stood, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry pursed his lip and looked down at his shoes, "The... wandless magic problem and... stuff."

Malfoy groaned and regally ran his fingers over his forehead, "If I stay too long, I might contract the Weasley disease. Terrible," he sneered when Arthur bristled and his ears grew red. Pushing his glasses up his freckled nose, Arthur returned the smirk, looking surprisingly sinister as he did so, "Yes, and it might be better for us all if you leave. Your _abnormally, large forehead_ has taken up half the room."

The blond threw the red-head a look before directing his steely, gray eyes on Harry, disgust evident in his voice and face, "Riddle, you _had_ to bring this scum didn't you?" Harry was not fazed.

But Arthur was. He stepped in front of the first-year protectively and glowered darkly, "Leave Riddle out of it," he threatened.

"Don't you tell me to do anything, Weasley! Disgusting blood traitor! Worse than that infernal Black!"

It was at this point Harry whipped his wand out of his front pocket and cast a swift_Silencio_. Ignoring the wild movements that Arthur made and the cold glare that Malfoy sent his way, Harry looked at Snape's pinched face, "One of them has got to go."

"Indeed."

"Think we can o_bliviate_ Malfoy?"

A pause before Snape spoke again, "... I was thinking Weasley be excused."

Harry pursed his lips and shook his head, challenge in his eyes, "Headboy _and_ a seventh year."

"Slytherin."

Harry grinned, "Touché ," he turned and broke the spell with his wand. Arthur, who was in the midst of screaming, stopped himself and turned to Harry, "Using a wand on the Head boy is not the best way to get there help Riddle!" he berated, but Harry's eyes were on Malfoy, making sure his twitching fingers did not actually make it to his wand.

This was not going to work out, and neither Harry nor Snape were going to let their two choices go, "... we could... switch I suppose? Mondays and Thursdays for Arthur and Friday and Saturday for Malfoy," Harry suggested uncertainly. Snape made a face and stood in silence for long seconds, trying to come up with another solution, "Very well, if the two are satisfied with this...?" he looked to the older teens, one who nodded and the other shrugged.

With a pleased smile, Harry ushered them to magically summoned chairs that appeared in the middle of the room and began to explain the point of this potion, "Malfoy, you remember when I was studying werewolves in the library with Pettigrew?" The blond shrugged curtly, Harry smirked and continued, "I was gathering up information that we would need in order to make this potion. You saw my notes," he directed a look to Arthur who nodded in return, "Snape and I, we've been trying to find a cure for lycanthropy."

The outburst was immediate as Lucius snapped out of his cool position with a glare, "No such thing! Lycanthropy is an irreplaceable disease, there is no cure for such a sickness! It is as if saying you can bring the dead back to life!"

"Exactly Malfoy! That's just what it is, a disease! Like... cancer.. mere muggle diseases. Hell, even Wizards can catch the common cold! Chicken pox, influenza, scurvy, all of those! It's just an illness and people have made various breakthroughs in curing those. Albeit there is still nothing for cancer... people are working to heal the entire world, because there is such a thing as a cure. Lycanthropy can be cured."

There a sense of pride welling up in Harry's chest at Malfoy's stumped expression as the teen went lax and sighed. It was a sign for him to go on, "But I'm not really looking for a permanent solution or a cure-all type... something temporary that might just take the insanity away from a werewolf's mind... giving them their human self in a wolf's form. We don't have much. Just lists and lists of potion ingredients... but it's still a start."

Arthur seemed interested with a slightly glazed look in his eyes while Malfoy merely crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, "Where do we come in?"

"Unicorn horn," Harry immediately answered, "is a magical property and it's hard to contain all of its magic with a stirring rod, whether the rod is magical or not. So it needs to be—"

"—mixed with magic. Oh, I see now," Arthur nodded his head in understanding and smiled, "But Unicorn horns _are_ expensive."

"Right," Snape stepped in at this point, lifting himself out of the chair, "so we'll practice with beetles eyes. I believe that some ingredients are still faulty so we won't be adding in the horn until we make sure the other ingredients don't react to each other and explode."

"Boom!" Harry added childishly, shuffling nervously when Snape stared at him from the corner of his eye.

"Anyway," Snape continued, acting as if Harry hadn't just done that, "Mondays and Thursdays Weasley, and Fridays and Saturdays for you," he looked at Malfoy who stood importantly.

"Dismissed!"

"... Riddle... don't _ever_ do that again."

With a shy smile, Harry hurriedly shooed the three to the door, "I'll clean up a bit around here. Go on ahead. Bye Snape, Arthur; go to hell Malfoy."

Without complaint (although a dirty look from Lucius) the three left Harry in the room as he closed the door and locked it before turning back to the room which transformed itself into a quaint tearoom, "You can come out not. The other's might not have seen you, due to you hiding behind them, but it doesn't help when I'm facing your way."

Dobby peeked over a cushion, his wide eyes unblinking and innocent as he tiptoed closer to his favorite wizard, "Harry Potter, sir. Dobby has found something."

"... what?"

Slipping his hand into the dirty, pillow cover, Dobby seemed to magically conjure a thick potions book from under his rags and dropped it to the ground, "Dobby has found this in Master's library while dusting. Dobby had to jump from the tower window into the Mistress's rose bushes."

Harry winced when he took in the house elf's dog-earred form and smiled, "What is it Dobby?" he asked, indicating to the book.

Dobby happily flipped through the book, eyes wide and intelligent as it roamed the pages. He finally stopped on one, "Dobby cannot read very well, but it said 'time,'" he pointed to the word, "and 'return.' Dobby think it might help Harry Potter."

In deep interest, Harry took Dobby's book and read through the small words, speaking of the potion's purpose and needs. With a sudden light feeling in his heart, Harry gave Dobby a bright grin and reached forward to hug the elf, "Dobby!" he cried in joy, "Thank you! This... this might work. This might really work. It looks tough... and the ingredients rare... but... thank you so much."

"Harry Potter wants to go back, Dobby has sworn to help Harry Potter out. Sworn the day Harry Potter freed Dobby."

"... it has not happened yet Dobby."

"To Dobby is has," the house elf replied and smiled shyly, "Dobby is always happy to help. Goodbye Harry Potter." And he popped out of the room.

Harry gulped the wad of saliva that had unknowingly gathered up in his mouth and looked back to the thick, leather-bound book on his lap. A Dream Through Time Potion, more scientifically, it was called "Moon Hallucinogen," as it was hard to concoct and without the proper ingredient could be a powerful drug.

It was used to contact those of the future using a piece from someone's body. That someone would be the one you wanted to connect to, or their spawns. It was often used by false seers that wished to know more about the future in this form.

As useful as this potion was, it was dangerous with highly poisonous properties. Harry licked his lip and sighed. The chance he would be able to brew this without help was low... but he had no other choice.

He lightly fingered the stained pages as the plan slowly unraveled in his mind... he would dream... and through the dream he would find a way to move his soul through this... new body and into his old one. He'd do it...

He shut the text and gathered it up along with his other notes. Undoing the locking charm on the door, Harry walked out of the room, each step lighter than what it had been since he entered this world.

-be continued-

Title from "Shinjitsu no Uta" by Do As Infinity. Green is another meaning of "unripe."

**EDITED**: Saturday, July 28, 2007


	11. Year I: Too Far

Ah, two digit numbers. Time goes by quickly. One of the new character is real important, just know they aren't an OC, although I styled them to my liking only because they haven't come out in the books.

And the note to yiota and lilith: Thank you very much for pointing it out. It'll teach me to stop myself before ranting. (And research, dammit.)

**010..."You've Gone Much Farther, Too Far"  
**

The time passed on and the green leaves of the great trees of Hogwarts were beginning to dry and burn into a gentle orange. They crunched under the feet of the many students that strolled in the front of the castle, talking to friends and classmates, and occasionally enjoying themselves with a good book.

Harry sighed and fell over his own homework with a sad face, "I'm so tired..." he whined, ignoring the leaf that landed on his head. Lily reached over and brushed it off, "You've been overdoing yourself. I saw it the moment you started coming back to the common room so late."

Lily was right. With the homework and classes, along with the Wolfsbane Potion and his Moon Hallucinogen, time to rest was scarce. He had finished his Book of Light and that was now discarded under his bed, gathering dust.

"Yeah... I think I'll finish the essay tomorrow. I'm going to take a small nap I think," he smiled and stuffed all his books and notes under his arm, giving Xiaoue and Lily a small smile. They were makeshift study-buddies, Sirius, Peter, or Remus would occasionally join them from time-to-time... James had a better time with the older Gryffindors strangely.

"Bye Harry," they waved and returned to their books with fierce determination. They were both diligent and smart, more so than Harry had been in his first time at Hogwarts. He suspected it was his father's side at work, but what really irked him was that no matter how much James played around, he always received top marks and was very smug about it as well.

With heavy feet, Harry pulled himself up the stairs to the Headmaster's office. They were scheduled to have a small discussion today about Harry's activities and how the solution was going. He told Dumbledore of the Dream Through Time Potion. He was strongly against it, warning Harry of all the dangers in the making of it and how countless had been lost or thrown into insanity as the poisons ate through their nerves and brain. Harry brushed it all off with a stern glare.

Dumbledore gave in somewhat, still frowning when Harry left. The boy only hoped the man didn't bring it up again.

"Peppermint Swirls," Harry whispered, moving ahead when the obstacle jumped from his way and allowed the staircase to spiral up all the way on his own. He knocked curtly at the door and pushed his way into the office without a call.

Dumbledore sat at his desk with a serene smile and beckoned Harry forward, "Hello, Mr. Potter. How are you?"

"Slightly exhausted... although the beautiful weather cheers me a bit," he smiled back. Dumbledore nodded his head sagely, brushing his beard, "Yes... autumn is a lovely season, but you're exhausted aren't you?"

Harry shrugged and rested his chin on top of his hand, "It's just... along with the classes and everything that's going on. I mean, it's the weekend and I'm still working on homework and studying for the Wolfsbane along with... y'know..."

"Yes, I suppose," The elderly wizard sighed and leaned back into his seat, his hands twined together and placed in his lap, "You must understand something, Mr. Potter. Despite the very fact that you might be, mentally, seventeen years old... in truth you are just an eleven year old boy. Along with the fact that your body isn't in the best condition, you are still far too thin, it's no surprise all your work and effort is taking its toll upon you."

Harry gulped and looked down at his knees, troubled, "Then... what should I do?"

"... take a day off Mr. Potter. I'll excuse you from Monday classes, but please... think about yourself before anything else. Studies are important, Mr. Potter... but my students are far more. I want you to eat more as well. You were severely malnourished before, and at the amount you take in, it'll be a while before it is fixed."

"I understand," Harry replied immediately. He knew he was stick-skinny. He was this way before, and it was only with Hermione and Ron's efforts that he had gained enough weight to be considered 'average.' However... it had only been a month since Harry only had dry bread and cold soup to live off of during the war, he didn't think he could handle anything richer than what he was already having.

Dumbledore smiled in appreciation and laid a pale hand upon Harry's arm. Harry blinked at the warm, human heat that came off it... "Thank you Mr. Potter."

"That should be my line!" he flustered and looked to his shoes nervously.

"I do everything I can for my students."

A laugh, light and spirited, "That's all I have to report, so I'm going to go ahead and relax a bit. Bye Professor.."

Harry ran out of the office. He really was thankful and the walk back to the dormitories was so much more pleasing. Once he found his way up to the Gryffindor First Year Boy's room, he popped the cork off his regular potion and took it.

The effect was instant as he was only awake enough to feel his head land on the soft mattress.

He was used to the darkness his Moth Potion brought... but he was unaccustomed to the unusual dream that came along with it this time...

A dark, forest canopy with the sun's light peeking through the many leaves he saw with his mind's eye. The rays blinded his vision and the grass on his neck tickled his skin... a sudden shadow overlapped him and Harry looked up to see a dark bear-like creature hovering over him.

The animal's wet nose nudged his cheek playfully. Harry wanted to reach up and shove him away, but found he was unable to move. He stared at the long, white canines that peeked out from under the creature's furry lips warily for a long silent while, letting the bear paw at his stomach and press on his face.

_"Where have you gone?"_

A stranger appeared from behind the trees... blurred and unidentifiable. It was a soft voice... whispered out and Harry felt shivers run down his arm at the newcomer that pulled the bear-animal away from him.

Silk... black silk covers brushed against his face and cold, dry hands lifted him up with little difficulty. Something was wrong with this faceless person that heaved him onto the back of the bear. Harry breathed and looked tiredly, noticing small white insects flying around this stranger.

Something was out of place... something was terribly wrong with this entire situation. A clammy hand ran stroked his face and a heavy breath ran down his throat, _"Where have you gone?"_

His senses blacked out and he was welcomed into a comforting darkness that the moths always brought to him.

* * *

Harry woke, groggy and cranky at his heavy limbs and unwashed body, slightly irritated at seeing someone standing over him in the bright morning—morning?

Without even identifying the person above him, Harry's head whipped around to the window and saw the setting sun. He groaned and placed a hand over his eyes... he slept through the entire day...

"Wakey, wakey Sunshine," sang a voice, followed by finger prodding, "Are you feeling okay?"

With sloth-like movement, Harry gripped the finger mid-prod and looked up at Remus with a tired smile, "Mm. What'd I miss?"

"Not much. Binns is worse than my mother in the art of talking while no one cares," Sirius called from the foot of the bed, his comment causing Harry to giggle, "Evans tried to stay awake for sure, but I think she fell asleep too."

"You're picking on Lily again..." Harry accused and sat up in his bed, Remus's hand holding him up. With a hand over his mouth and another rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Harry looked around the room and caught the small, blurred stack of parchment on his bedside table, "Homework?" he groaned when Remus nodded cheerfully.

Harry casually pushed them to the ground, ignoring Sirius's snort of restrained laughter while Remus chuckled lightly, "But are you feeling alright?" the honey-haired boy asked worriedly. He didn't relax even when Harry nodded, "I'm good, tired though."

"You should be. All you've been doing is digging through books as if you'll magically find gold in there," Sirius walked around Harry's bedpost and jumped onto the mattress, "You're a first year. Relax a bit."

"... you don't know how many times I've heard that now."

"You'll hear it even more if you continue sticking your nose in dusty books! Go back to sleep, Riddle... you need it."

Harry was touched by Sirius's concern as the young one from the past seemed to be cold and aloof, but his mention of sleep brought the mysterious dream back to mind and he attempted to push out of bed with a new motive, "I need to stop by the library—"

A hand quickly stopped him midway and shoved him back onto his covers. Harry landed ungracefully on his back and glared up at Remus, "What was that about?" he demanded, irritated.

Remus smirked casually, it looked out-of-place on his face, and reached forward to lightly tuck Harry in, "If I see a book in your hands that isn't one of our curriculum books today or tomorrow... I promise you, whatever I do... it'll hurt."

"Threats are not nice," came a weak counter. Remus brushed it off with a smile and a wave, "Yes, yes. You're lucky Xiaoue's not here, he would've tied you up to the bed and set all your books on fire, cackling about of course."

Sirius scoffed dryly, stretching his back as he walked to the door, "It sounds like you're describing Evans. Merlin knows that girl has problems. Sweet dreams, Riddle. Lupin and I will be playing chess downstairs if you need us."

"If you're offering assistance Sirius, you're the last person I'd call!" Harry called back as the door was slowly closing behind the dark-haired boy. He caught Sirius's tiny smile in the open gap, "Yeah, that'd be smart."

Harry licked his dry lips slowly as the orange hue of sunset filled the room, giving a gentle, warmth to the already scarlet room. It was comforting... like a mother's hand to a tired child... Harry hardly noticed when he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next Monday morning came quickly enough. Harry took Dumbledore's advice and skipped classes. Although Remus was still attending them so Harry felt it safe enough to gambol up to the library and pick out a small number of books on dream interpretation.

He silently wished he had at least written the dream down before he fell too deep into his sleep, but easily recalled a good deal of it. The bear-creature, the faceless stranger, the forest, and butterflies.

The insects that night in his dream... the more he thought of their shape, the more a white butterfly came into view and he could no longer rip that image away. He was stuck with a butterfly.

With a text propped open on the table and another in his lap, Harry swiftly flipped through it's finger-stained pages with quick and wide eyes, "Bears..." he read quietly, "... the cycle of life and death... renewal... to become bare..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully as he jotted down small notes. He flipped the pages. The Stranger in his dream symbolized a part of the dreamer's self that was repressed or hidden, the forest talked of experience, butterflies were creativity, romance, transformation... but also had a meaning in certain parts of the world as life after death... a shudder ran through Harry's thin body. Dammit, he was _not_ dead.

But the white color of the butterfly denoted it. Purity of all, color of heaven, holiness, redemption... Death.

Harry cursed and slammed his book shut, alerting the few older students who had break period and Madam Pince at her front desk. They hissed at him for silence, but Harry had already fallen too deep into his thought to heed them any attention. What did the stranger say to him that night...

"Where... did you go?" he felt it was something similar to it.

It was minutes that passed by in utter silence, Harry holding his head in his hands as he tried to think in vain. He sighed at the very end, giving up his project and levitating the books into their rightful places on the shelves.

'_This was pointless and didn't make much sense anyway,'_ he consoled as he left the library and swiftly trekked up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. The common room was bare of students, thankfully, and Harry fell into the couch nearest the fireplace with a ungracefully leap.

He pulled out his wand from his pocket as it poked into his side as he shuffled around. He stared at the beautifully made craft in his hand for a few seconds, turning it around here and there so he could get a good glimpse at the untainted black wood.

He felt a certain tingle in his arm each time he used it. He suspected it was because the wand was not fit for him and therefore his magic had to get accustomed to this new channel to work through. Magic worked strangely like that.

"_Accio _cup," he casted, feeling the familiar shock run up his arm lightning-quick. The cup he called whipped right into his open hand smoothly however. He felt at no disadvantage with his new wand... he always figured he would.

Setting the cup down on the table and his wand back into his pocket, Harry laid an arm over his face to block out the light. He hoped to catch a bit of sleep, he didn't think the large, open dormitory would help, but the familiar couch of the Common Room seemed to adjust to the shape of his body, like Dumbledore's red chair had.

He didn't sleep, although resting his eyes and simply breathing did wonders for the boy. He hardly noticed when the students began filling in for their break period before they were to go to their second class of the day.

"Harry?" came a recognizable voice among the aimless chatter.

Harry lifted his arm and peeked a glance, seeing the wide, hazel eyes of James Potter staring at him worriedly, "Are you feeling alright? You weren't in class so I figured you might be a bit off..."

"I'm fine..." Harry started softly, but due to his soft tone James did not catch his words and continued talking, "Evans and Chang were worried sick. They're closer to you than I am so... but Black looked sorta pale as well. Remus told me he knew you were gone, and when I asked him about it he didn't answer! Isn't that what people do? Ask a question to expect an answer? I mean, really... was ignoring necessary? It's not like I talk my mouth off, I like getting straight to the point and all. You understand, right Harry? I mean, we're very much alike."

At this point Harry couldn't see what was so alike between him and James besides their physical appearances, "... right James. I'm fine, thanks for worrying."

James flashed a boyish grin, patting Harry on the shoulder in a friendly manner, "No problem, mate. Evans has your homework if you want to know," he laughed when Harry buried his face in his arms and groaned, "I know, it's horrible being ill and having homework brought to you in a silver platter."

Harry grimaced and peeked out from the corner of his eye to glare at the disgustingly cheery boy, "Thank you James for the update."

The boy nodded his head and opened his mouth to speak again but, thankfully, was cut off by a anxious Lily Evans as she cut in front of him with a few rolls of parchment in her hand, "Harry!" she gasped, "Are you alright? Ill? Feeling nauseous in any way or manner? Why aren't you up in the hospital wing? You—"

"Lily!" Harry started abruptly, cutting the girl off and gently placing his hands on her shoulder, "Breathe for a moment..." she shot him a look, making Harry grin sheepishly, "Or not. I'm fine Lily, completely healthy. Madam Pomfrey would skin me alive for wasting my energy to get all the way up to the Hospital Wing rather than sleeping here. It's just a bit of exhaustion."

Lily's lip twisted and an eyebrow raised skeptically, "A bit? Why do I doubt that?"

Harry shrugged in answer, smiling sweetly. He offered her no answers, but it seemed to pacify the red-head as she dumped her armload of parchment into his lap with a smirk, "They have directions, rules, and due dates on them. I hope you enjoy yourself."

"That's cruel," Harry commented off-handedly, nonchalantly flipping through his many assignments. He eyed each one of them as if they were Flobberworms, but gathered them up helplessly in the end and placed them on the table, "Did you take the liberty of going around all the classrooms and picking up the assignments for me?"

Lily blushed lightly and looked away, "Maybe..." she shrugged. Harry smiled, decidedly amused, "Thank you, Lily. It's a great help."

"... you're welcome."

After Lily left, shuffling up the stairs to the girl's dorms, Harry was left stretching his limbs and watching from the corner of his eyes as the small number of first years were starting to nervously approach him with their papers in hand.

"You ask him," a slim and rather feminine looking boy hissed to his dark-haired, broad-shouldered friend, "Eh? You ask him! It was _your_ idea."

Harry watched, faintly amused by their antics and waited patiently until they decided they should just approach him. Finally, the girlish-looking Damocles Belby stepped up with a frown, "Riddle," he started, "We require your assistance in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Young is useless. And you're intelligent ... please," he added after a thought.

Professor Rosemary Young was new to the teaching department and was young and shy, a Ravenclaw in her Hogwart years. Therefore she was an intelligent woman, but an incompetent teacher. Harry smiled up at Damocles and his friend Edward Tribune who looked a tad bit friendlier than the aloof boy, "Sure. I'll be happy to assist you."

"Yes, I'm sure," Damocles muttered, taking a seat on the sofa near the fireplace. Edward rolled his eyes and flashed the other boy a grin, "Ignore him, he's in a mood because you're smarter than him."

"Keep talking that way, Tribune. I swear you'll find yourself missing a limb the next morning."

Edward rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to his friend, "He's a violent person. No idea how he managed himself into Gryffindor. Can I call you Harry?"

Harry swallowed his laughter at the boy's skittish attitude and how he fidgeted in his seat, "Sure. You're Edward, right?"

"Yeah, but don't call me that. Ed—or something. Only my mum calls me Eddy," he looked to the cool boy next to him with expectant eyes, "You can call him Damocles."

At the mention of his name, Damocles paused in his shuffling of notes to bore his dark eyes into Harry's face, "... if you must," he returned his attention to the parchment in his hands, "Since you were absent for class this morning, I'll inform you that we're now studying the leg-locker curse."

"Damy can't do it right," Edward supplied helpfully, ignoring Damocles's sputtering and squeaks of irritation, "And we _all_ know you're some kind of genius, always helping out your buddies, so we threw away our Gryffindor pride and decided that we might need your great words of wisdom," he grinned and Harry flustered.

"Um... _Locomotor Mortis?_" Harry asked feebly. It was an easy enough curse... although why Young would be teaching her first year class such a thing...

Damocles grunted, still not willing to accept the boy's help easily. Harry didn't know either boys that well, but from Damocles's rather... hostile attitude... he could only guess. However, Edward seemed skeptical as he often peeked at his companion from the corner of his eye.

"What are you having trouble with?" Harry started helpfully, biting his lip when Damocles gave him a look from under his bangs, "Um... the wand movement? Or is pronunciation of the incantation a problem?" he was seriously starting to hate Damocles's brown-eyed glare.

Edward seemed to sense it as well as he turned his entire body around and snapped, "What is your problem? Harry's trying to help us out and you look like you're ready to eat him alive!" he turned to Harry apologetically, "I'm really sorry about how he's acting. He's not normally like this... alpha-male-complex or something..."

"Are you comparing me to an animal?" Damocles hissed, his straight auburn hair rising slightly with his irritation. Edward didn't respond, so Damocles whipped his head to where Harry sat and narrowed his eyes, "Look, this was a bad idea," he gathered up all his belongings and left his friend and Harry together... speechless.

With pursed lips, Edward looked sideways at Harry (who's mouth had fallen open in the last minute) and smiled, "Sorry... he's a being a downright git. He's not usually like this... it's just... you're smarter than him."

"... huh?"

Edward offered a tight smile, "He secretly wished to be in Ravenclaw. I know... because I've known him since I could walk. Now he's in Gryffindor and bitter about it... along with the fact you're top of the class. So... he's... sensitive about things like that."

"... that I'm smarter than him?" Harry was horrified.

"Yeah, don't take it personally."

How could he _not_ take it personally? Harry nervously played with the sleeve of his robes, what he usually did when stressed, and stared at the stairs leading up to the boy's dormitories... the way Damocles escaped, "... should I... talk to him?"

"Better not to. He'll cool down eventually. He's only pacified at knowing you're dreadful at potions, that Slytherin kid's always yelling at you," Edward laughed politely, not meaning anything by his words. If even he was meaning to taunt, Harry wouldn't have been fazed... knowing fully well his worst subject was potions, "I get by with having Snape as a partner."

"You're smart enough on your own, so don't take my words to heart and suddenly start failing. Damocles is smart so he'll figure out you're doing it on purpose. So, about that curse..."

Harry smiled weakly, the image of loathing on Damocles's pale face not willing to leave his mind. In some ways, the boy reminded him of his good friend Hermione Granger... Harry pulled out his own wand and began to slowly demonstrate the movement of the wand during the Leg-Locker Curse and repeated the incantation.

Edward left to go to the dormitories to show his friend the result of his hard work with a grin, thanking Harry quickly before running up the stairs in glee, "Oh! Are you going to go to class after break?"

Harry licked his lips thoughtfully, leaning back into the leather of the couch, "No. I don't think I will," he grinned, "I like where I am and don't plan on moving anytime now."

The other boy laughed and waved frantically, "It's nice to chat with you, Harry. And don't worry about Belby-boy. He'll warm up to another bookworm in no time!" and he trotted up and the stairs and into the dorms.

The chatter in the common room was still a gentle hum of students that gathered to talk of different subjects: homework, chess, lovers, whatever. Harry, however, placed a hand over his chin in thought. Belby... he had heard of a Belby sometime in his before life as 'Harry Potter.' But there was some importance of that name as well in some darker textbooks he had taken from Grimmauld Place's library.

He couldn't recall at this exact moment and time... but it was important.

Plus the fact that he seemed to dislike Harry with a passion was somewhat concerning. It wasn't hate like what the former-Snape held for him: pure loathing, unadulterated disdain... it was like Malfoy's... Draco Malfoy's. Rivalry and challenge. Damocles looked at him with eyes burning of a fight.

"Hey! Harry!"

At the sudden intrusion of his thinking, the boy jumped in surprise and turned around to see who had called him.

James was on the ground in a huddle of Sirius and Remus. Harry's heart skipped, '_The Marauders..._'

"Come on, come on, Harry," James waved the boy over. Reluctantly, Harry stood from his comfortable position and slid onto the ground next to Sirius, "What are you three up to?" he asked suspiciously.

Remus laughed at his tone and shook his shaggy head, "Nothing much. We _were_ working on Transfiguration homework, before James let himself known."

"Harry!" Wide, hazel eyes hidden behind stylish egg-shaped glasses blinked up at him, "Will _you_ help me in my mischief making?"

"... no."

James's shoulder noticeably drooped and his head sagged pathetically, "Even _Harry_ won't help me. Woe is me..."

Harry bit his lip when James began to sniffle pitifully. He wasn't particularly moved by the dramatic act that James put on, but he felt obliged. This _was_ the man who aided in spawning him, "What sort of mischief?"

"McGonagall," James put simply, head snapping up as soon as Harry asked. He inched forward, closer to the other boy with a growing sneer, "Giving me a detention for something I had absolutely _no_ control over. Plus the fact she hasn't given me my snitch back. I'm going to turn her hair _bright red_."

Harry looked over at Remus and Sirius, one who was smiling sheepishly and the other yawning. "James 'accidentally' put her desk on fire," Remus supplied helpfully. Harry nodded in understanding, "Ah..." he drawled, giving James a pointed look, "The spell I used from before?"

"_Incendio?_" James looked puzzled, thoughtfully tapping his chin, "Yeah, perhaps."

Harry chortled, shaking his head in disbelief and amusement before matching James's bright grin with his own, "You know what might be better?"

* * *

Harry never felt any guilt for using his extensive knowledge on Hogwart's ground for his own pleasure: the kitchens, the Room of Requirements, many empty classrooms, etc. etc. So this time made no difference.

After setting up a plan with James (and stringing in Remus and Sirius with persuasion), Harry took Peter aside and assigned him with the job of alibis for them, in case they were suspected.

The job was finished that night after dinner and curfew, painlessly and easily. Harry had a good night's sleep with the help of a dose of his regular potions.

It was during breakfast the next day that Harry walked up to Professor McGonagall with a smirk and a small whisper, "Don't drink the juice."

Harry watched from the corner of his eyes as McGonagall inconspicuously switched her's and Professor Young's drinks.

Rosemary Young was short of horrified at the foul taste of poorly made potions that came from her goblet and set it down immediately. Her initial reaction to the spiked drink was quick... but the wide eyes and dropped jaws from the student population was faster.

No one had any harsh feelings against little Miss Young... other that the fact she sputters, titters, and likes to follow the textbook. Her class... was easily bored.

So, although James's expectations of seeings McGonagall with red hair was not reached... he was not disappointed at the high-pitched squeal of horror when Professor Young took one look at her pale orange hands.

Laughter did not ensue until Young ran out from the Great Hall, frantically clutching her robes to hide her newly colored skin and hair. Harry smiled up at McGonagall who raised eyebrows at him.

"Oh, I'm a tad disappointed that it wasn't McGonagall... but... I suppose it'll do. Even though the potion wasn't exactly the shade of red we planned. I don't she'd be so shocked if she did turn Gryffindor Red," James laughed out from behind his hand. Lily looked troubled from beside him as she stared at the door the teacher disappeared behind, "I... do feel a bit sorry for her. Although her classes _were_ dreadful, I—"

James gasped, successfully cutting Lily off as he placed a hand over his heart and reeled back, "What is this? Evans is mouthing off about a professor? Surely not, her teacher-complex won't _allow_ it!"

"James Potter! I do _not_ have a teacher-complex!"

James was singing the word around Lily as breakfast continued on peacefully enough with the gossips and rumours flying around. It wasn't much, Harry decided as he smiled languidly, but it was enough.

* * *

That night, Defense of the Dark Arts was just a free period due to the fact that Professor Young refused to come out of her office. Harry to the chance to pull out a worn page from the potions book Dobby had brought him yesterday and lazily read through the list of ingredients.

It consisted mostly of plants: Tomato Vines, Belladonna, Foxglove, Mandrake, Henbane, Datura, etc. etc.

Harry rubbed his temple with a strained smile. Some of what was listed had to be illegal...

Then as the list went on, at the very bottom it stated: "A DNA sample." Harry ran his tongue over his teeth patiently, '_WHAT DNA SAMPLE?'_ his mind screamed and writhed.

The people he were looking for, did not yet exist, and the people who do _now_, did not exist in Harry's time. Death was an evil monster that way.

But there was that issue with science and children having something of their parents or whatnot, Harry never got so far in muggle schools, but the logic made sense... the children would be related in some biological way to their parents... he would use that.

It would have to be McGonagall, the remaining Weasleys, perhaps his own, and if he was lucky... Neville. He would contact them, have them find his body, then he'd force his way back, no matter how many rules of physics he broke. Screw paradox.

He'd find a way out of this place.

No matter how much it rattled his heart to think about it...

-be continued-

Title came from "Fake Wings" by Yuki Kajiura.  
**EDITED**: 12/26/2007


	12. Year I: Call Me

Mm, Halloween. Yum.

**012..."****Call Me! I'll Come as Soon as Possible****"**

The full moon had passed on tonight, Remus was sleeping in the Hospital Wing, Harry was slowly flipping through his building bundle of notes, and Halloween was tomorrow.

The make-shift, pre-Marauders were rather excited, although Sirius refused to take part in James's active bouncing, he was often found with a wide smirk and strutting around like a newly groomed cat.

Peter sat by his side, quiet as usual, as they both studied together peacefully. If someone told him a few months ago that he would be enjoying Peter Pettigrew's company in front of a lit fireplace... he would've hexed them.

The boy wasn't so bad at eleven. Sure, he would often fix his gaze upon James's bright form and blink in awe. Harry wondered why he did that at times, but then Peter would turn back to him with a shy smile and return to his notes. He wasn't so bad at eleven...

"Harry!" James seemed to pop out of thin air and Harry reeled back in shock, hardly noting that Peter tumbled out of the couch with a cry. With a hand over his thumping heart, Harry fixed James with a glare, "Don't _do_ that," he gasped.

James laughed and playfully whacked Harry's knee, "Sorry 'bout that," he did not sound sorry at all, "But All Hallows Eve, Harry. Tomorrow."

"I never could have guessed," Harry drawled sarcastically.

"No, no, silly. And since Mischief Night is November 4th... but I figured we could just celebrate on Halloween... they did that before, y'know."

"... what are you trying to...?"

James's tongue peeked out from between his lips and his eyes squinted in a smile, the epitome of 'troublemaker,' "Some of us are still disappointed that we didn't see a crimson-McGonagall. So Black, who eagerly decided to assist me, as well as Remus, who was also willing but went missing yesterday, decided we needed to get her, if not everyone in the Great Hall."

Harry blinked, and a slow smile crept over his lips, "Um... don't think the rest of the student body is ready for that kind of shock. And give up on McGonagall, if she somehow figured out it was you there'd be no knowing what she'd do."

James's expression fell into one of dismay as he took in Harry words. "B-b-but..." he stuttered.

Harry ran his tongue over his top-row of teeth wearily, "... um... Dumbledore."

"... James," the boy said slowly and pointed to himself, slightly horrified, "I'm_James_."

A chortle escaped Harry at the look on James's face, but he shook his head, attempting to pacify him, "No, Dumbledore. You should pull one on him," as long as it wasn't dangerous, Dumbledore would find it terribly amusing.

This seemed to cheer the boy up as his hazel eyes flashed in interest and leaned closer with a long smirk, "What kind of surprise should we throw at him?" he breathed out.

Peter had fixed himself after falling bodily out of the couch and was combing through his wheat yellow hair with his fingers, "Pie," he grumbled absentmindedly. He didn't take notice as two pairs of wide-eyed fixed him with a stare.

Harry burst out in laughter, shocking the other two around him, "Make sure it's lemon meringue," and he pushed himself out of the couch and turned to the portrait door.

He left the Gryffindor common room with a smile and made his way up to the Hospital Wing to visit Remus.

The young werewolf was slowly getting better with the treatment at Hogwarts and Harry's support. The human comfort was what strengthened him.

And due to his thoughts, Harry hardly realized the sharp pain that ran up his spine from his backside as he was knocked off his feet. He glared up at the offender, teeth grit and ready to yell, but stopped himself short at the sight of dark hair and dark eyes.

Snape didn't say anything as he outstretched a hand for Harry to take and pulled him up to his feet. Harry muttered a thanks and dusted his robes off.

"Riddle," Snape started abruptly, crossing his arms across his chest, "I won't be able to make it tonight."

Harry nodded, "Why?"

"... I've got a considerable amount of homework that I must finish..." the other confessed, darting his eyes away from Harry's paling face. He pushed his glasses up his nose and began to stutter an apology only to stop himself when Snape shot him a sharp glare, "Quiet Riddle. Making this potion has been a better portion of my time here anyway."

Harry blinked at the small flush on Snape's cheeks as he digested the confession, "... I'm glad you care," he said sincerely.

"Not about you," Snape hissed harshly, ignoring Harry's small smirk at that, "I don't care about _why_ you're making this either. Just... just don't take it away from me."

"... I won't."

There was a thick silence after Harry's promise which was quickly broken by Snape coughing into his hand and giving the first-year Gryffindor a look. Harry took it as a farewell and smiled awkwardly, "Bye then."

Snape nodded and swept past him like the bat he was. With a shake of his head in good humour, Harry returned to his original objective of visiting Remus in the infirmary.

As usual, the trip up the stairs and to the sick wing was quick. There was a few number of other students lying in bed, Harry immediately turned around and went straight to the one Remus had taken for himself.

The honey-haired boy was lying against the fluffed pillows with the clean sheets tucked beneathe his elbows. With the shadow of Harry hiding the light, Remus opened his eyes and grinned to see his friend, "Harry! How are you?"

"I'm fine. And you?"

Remus shrugged, pushing himself up on his elbows and leaning his back against the headboard, "Could be better, but... things don't work out that way." Harry laughed, nodding, "Certainly not... you need anything?"

"Even if I did I wouldn't tell you. How were classes?"

"Same old, same old. Fell asleep in History of Magic and Young looked like she was going to have a nervous breakdown," Harry blinked innocently as he scratched the back of his head. Remus smirked and shook his head, "Is she still rubbing at her hands?"

"'Orange, orange, orange,'" Harry mimicked the the nervous Defense Professor, highering his voice and pulling a face, "I feel bad, I thought Gryffindor Red might really be her color... ah, but we're still first years."

Remus rolled his amber eyes and toed Harry's arm in retaliation, "You're rather cruel. Don't you have anything better to do than brag about your sins?"

"My only sin is this deadly, handsome face," he cupped his chin with a wide grin, craning his neck as to give Remus a better look.

"What has James done to you?"

Harry winked playfully and earned himself another shove from his werewolf friend. They laughed and exchanged comments with each other, not noticing the time that passed. Remus smiled as Harry grumbled about James' new plan on throwing pie at Dumbledore or whatnot. It's true he'd been nervous when he first received his Hogwarts letter... terrified...

"Remus?"

At the call of his name, Remus looked up into Harry's worried eyes and heaved a sigh, "Have I told you that my dad's a werewolf hunter?"

Harry stiffened, his posture straightening at the sudden confession and he could only blink in confusion, "... what?" Not even _his_ Professor Lupin told him about this...

"A Werewolf Hunter. He hunts werewolves."

"I _know_ what they are. I'm just... but... you're—" he couldn't find the right words to say and pursed his lips in frustration. Remus smiled softly and nodded, "Yeah... I know. Dad was... awfully displeased. He blames himself for it, along with Mum—" he stopped himself and continued along, "it's too much stress on him. He would be there for me, fussing over me like you do... he quit his job along with it so..."

"... why are you telling me this?"

A strange glint lit in Remus's eyes and his lips twitched, "Because you remind me of him."

Harry pursed his lip. Well, that was certainly a shocker. A pregnant pause rose between them as Remus ducked his head with colored cheeks and Harry casually leaned back into his chair, "I..." Harry started hesitantly after a moment, "... remind you of your _werewolf hunter_ father?" Remus shrugged.

"He quit his job after I was bitten though. I... my dad won't tell me, but... I think he knows who bit me... and why," amber eyes drifted down to clammy hands that were almost frantically pulling and gripping at the infirmary's white sheets.

Harry smiled guiltily and looked at his hands gathered in his lap, he knew who bit him, and now he had a faint idea why Greyback attacked Remus... it still didn't quell his anger at the rouge werewolf, "So I remind you of your _ex-_werewolf hunter father?" he teased.

Remus shrugged again, "Don't worry about it, I'm not going to start calling you 'Dad' or anything."

"I should hope not!" Harry laughed out. He calmed himself but the image of his Professor Lupin twirling him around chirping, '_Dad! Dad!'_ sent him into another fit of giggles.

Remus smiled fondly as Harry breathed heavily and rested his forehead against the mattress of Remus's bed, "Feeling better?"

Harry snorted, "Much," he lifted his head with a small grin. Reaching out Harry placed a pale hand on Remus's shoulder and squeezed, "I'm going to go ahead and leave. Will you be at breakfast tomorrow?" Remus nodded and Harry squeezed his shoulder again.

Standing up from his chair, Harry opened the covers around the bed and waved at Remus before closing it behind him and left the Hospital Wing, "... like his father, huh?"

Harry was decidedly embarrassed.

* * *

Halloween.

Harry had the world's rudest awakening as James Potter sent a bucket of ice-cold water to be dumped over his head.

"W-wh-what!" Harry sputtered furiously, shaking the water off his hair and distantly heard squawks coming from the other boys in the dorm.

"JAMES POTTER!" came Xiaoue's enraged roar, Sirius's, "What the f—!" came soon after and he was interrupted mid-curse by James's jovial laughter, "Rise and shine, Sleepy Uglies!"

"The only thing that'll be ugly when I'm through with you—" Damocles already pulled out his wand and began advancing on James, who seemed to have no concern for his safety.

Harry neatly sat up, soaking wet and more than slightly irritated as he glared up at the grinning first year, "James Potter... you are a _menace_. A downright zealot."

James took a little bow, "Why, thank you very much Mr. Riddle."

"You are _not_ welcome. _Aquamenti._"

The other first-year boys watched in fascination as a jet of water burst out from Harry's wand and sprayed James until he was entirely drenched and resembled a drowned animal. Xiaoue burst out in pleased laughter first.

"However pleasing that was," Damocles added seriously, "That was some advanced magic."

Sirius nodded, regaining his posture even through his sopping, wet hair and narrowed his gray eyes suspiciously, "I've noticed as well. I don't think we'll learn that one until we're at least sixth year."

Harry pursed his lip and shrugged. With a mild drying charm to his hair and bed, the boy lied down and tucked the covers underneathe his chin, "It doesn't matter, I know lots of useful spells. I'm going to go back to sleep now. Good night, and James... if you pull that stunt on me again today, I'm going to do something... and it's going to hurt." He closed his eyes and missed James's bright grin as he turned to Sirius and whispered, "He said _'today_,' what about tomorrow?"

Peter who was unhappily switching his posture around so his feet would lay on the wet part of the bed instead of his head, gave James a stare and a frown, "Unless you _want_ to be maimed... I recommend you don't try anything funny this early in the morning again."

Giving Peter a scandalized look, James placed a hand over his heart and gasped, "Funny? Not I, never. I was being considerate in giving you all appropriate waking calls—"

"James, what you might consider 'appropriate' does not bode well with us," Edward spoke up for the first time they had been awakened by the boy's prank. He had already copied Harry's actions and placed his own heating charm over himself and his bed and proceeded to repeat his actions on the other beds.

The prankster Gryffindor ignored Edward and skipped over to a nearly asleep Harry and prodded him, "Come _on_ Harry. It's Halloween. You promised you'd help me with my prank."

"No, I didn't," Harry muttered under his blanket.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I did not."

"You did too."

"Did not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not—blast it, James! It's not the Halloween feast first thing in the _morning_! Halloween feast takes place during dinner! You can do your little prank then!"

"You'll help me with it then?" James chirped cheerfully.

Half-asleep, Harry barely registered James's question as his brain screamed at him to do everything in his power to make the boy go away, "Yes," he mumbled sleepily.

James's grin widened and he leaned in closer, "Promise?"

"Mmmph."

It was only in the darkness when the boys were sound asleep that Harry shot up like a bullet and slapped his forehead.

* * *

Harry woke up in the morning actively avoiding James and found a seat between Lily and Xiaoue for breakfast. He didn't see James grinning brightly at the sight of him.

Lily caught it for him soon enough and she narrowed her eyes down the table, "... why is Potter smiling at you like an idiot?"

Unable to answer with his head in his hands, Xiaoue laughed awkwardly and pat Harry gently on the back, "He's promised something to him."

"... do I want to know?"

Harry shook his head and Lily let it be. She sighed and sipped her pumpkin juice solemnly. She didn't like James very much, the boy had no malice in him, but he didn't know of limits and morals.

They ate their breakfast in silence before Remus took the open space in front of them with a heavy sigh. Harry immediately cheered up, "Remus!" he greeted. The werewolf returned Harry's smile with his own and began piling his plate, "Good morning Harry, Xiaoue, Lily."

They each gave him their own good mornings and chatted eagerly about different topics ranging from school to the food on their plates.

After breakfast they headed for classes, Sirius tagging along with them like he usually does, "Are you really going to help Potter with his foolish antics?"

Harry tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, "I don't see why not. I've been thinking about it during breakfast. I'd love to pull one over on Dumbledore, I'm sure he'd enjoy it as well."

"Good to see you agree, Harry!" James jumped up from behind the two, startling the group. Harry gingerly rubbed his forehead and growled, "James... why do I get the feeling that you're annoying me on purpose."

"Annoy? You? On purpose? Never," James wrapped an arm around the smaller boy's shoulder and pulled him foreward, "Now, down to business. Here's the plan that our little group set up."

"Group?" Harry interrupted.

James nodded his head happily, flashing his straight teeth in a smile, "Right, you, me, Pettigrew, and Black. Occasionally Remus, but he wasn't here for this one."

"I refuse to be in your little group of troublemakers!" Harry argued half-heartedly and wriggled out of the flabbergasted boy's grasp. James snapped out of his stupor and trailed after Harry like a wounded animal, "Harry..." he whined, "you promised."

"Promised to help you throw _pie_ at Dumbledore. Not be a part of your delinquent groupie."

James sniffled and turned to Sirius who was smirking, "Black! Riddle's being obnoxious!" he pointed a finger at Harry who was blatantly ignoring the pair and talking to Remus in hushed tones. Sirius smirked, "Don't you worry about it Potter. He'll cave in sooner or later."

Harry made a face at the other boy, but as he turned his eyes narrowed in thought. There was a point in his life when the Marauders were a group that always sparked Harry's respect... there probably was a lingering sort of fascination with them.

But Harry had no wish to join it.

Throwing pie at Dumbledore brought swelling feeling of morbid satisfaction to Harry... it was also a pinch of curiousity as well. Harry sighed and smiled at Remus, "Did you finish all your homework?"

* * *

Harry dragged James down with him to the Great Hall, an hour earlier than when the actual feast started. He hoped to do this when no one was around...

James, surprisingly, seemed to understand what Harry was trying to accomplish as he stood quiet watch while his accomplice bent down under the teacher's table with his wand out and was silently forcing his magic through the baton.

Harry swiftly drew a thin, nearly invisible string of magic. Dumbledore could sense it if he wanted... but Harry doubted he would do anything to stop it. Once he recognized Harry's magic he would simply smile and play along.

He did say he did not trust Harry... but knew that the boy did not mean to harm him.

"I've attached a string to the pie. The pie's under the table right now. If the House Elves do as we tell them... everything will work out fine," Harry shared a grin with James. The other boy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "And if the elves decide that listening to a first year would be a bad idea?"

Harry pursed his lips. The House Elves were being strangely obedient to a first-year... but Dobby remembered him. Perhaps they recalled him from some scene of their future as well?

"... I don't think it'll be a problem."

They left for the Gryffindor Tower, to spend the remainder of their time in the company of friends.

"How'd it go?" Peter asked them the moment they walked through the portrait opening. Harry smiled and nodded his head in reply.

The Gryffindor first years left the tower together, quietly conversing amongst themselves and Damocles reluctantly asking Harry questions in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

They took their seats, surrounded by other students, chatting happily with their friends, some even marveling at the decorations around the Great Hall. Floating candles... hovering jack-o-lanterns... wonderful, beautiful Hogwarts.

Dumbledore stood up, smiling at all the students with a twinkle in his blue eyes and bent down to pick up his goblet—

The magic string snapped, the High Table flipped over knocking off dishes and goblets all over. And the pie—

The students stared in shock when Dumbledore's face disappeared behind the silver pan, the unlucky teachers near the Headmaster were splattered with cream.

The dead silence lasted for a minute before students keeled over in laughter, holding their stomachs and banging fists on the table. Harry choked through his laughter, "Trick or Treat."

Dumbledore neatly pulled the pie off, his smile never faltering as he gave Harry a look, "Thoughtful of you," it looked as though he was talking to no one in particular, "Lemon is my favorite flavor."

And the food blossomed on top of the tables, the teachers were forced to fix their fallen one before helping themselves to the feast. Dumbledore, every so often, attempted to lick the cream off the tip of his nose.

Harry smiled behind his goblet and shared a knowing glance with James, Peter, and Sirius.

Childhood was good.

-be continued-

**EDITED**: Saturday, July 28, 2007


	13. Year I: Give Courage

Before any of you go down to read the little part of Harry's rant... please know Harry and Ron's relationship is platonic love. Same goes for Dumbledore and Harry.

**013..."Like You, Just Like You, I Want to Give Courage"**

_A dream... a ship... with wings. The ship flew over the clouds as its mighty wings flapped and the wind blew them forward. _

_They drifted over the clouds and captured the stars... one by one, stuffing them into bags and throwing them down to the people on land._

_But what the captain, with his flaming red hair and bright eyes, really wanted was the sun. So the crew pushed for the center of the universe; passing planets, comets... but it quickly began to get too hot._

_The captain urged and ordered forward... and in the end... _

_He was eaten up by the sun's burning mouth._

Harry awoke. The scream of "Ron" on his lips.

His dorm mates were startled out of their sleep. Xiaoue quickly shook off all exhaustion from his body and grabbed Harry by his shoulders, "Harry! Harry!" The other boy was convulsing violently, shaking in his hands with green eyes wide open and glassy.

The other boys were quick to gather around Harry, Edward already sent off to gather McGonagall.

The wait was agonizing and the air was thick with worry and fright from the boys as they watched their friend trembling in Xiaoue's arms.

McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey burst in, still dressed in their sleeping gowns. The Head of House whipped out her wand and with a quick spell summoned a jet of cold water to burst from the tip of her wand.

Harry struggled and sputtered wildly, still slightly crazed as he slowly took in the forms of all those around him. He pushed himself out of Xiaoue's arms and walked around the dormitory aimlessly, "Ron?" he called tentatively, eyes darting wildly around the entire room. He stopped near Sirius's bed and peeked under it, "... Ron...?" his breathing sped up and the blood rushed from his face as he broke out into a cold sweat, shivering from the water from earlier, "Ron...!" he wailed.

McGonagall took a hesitant step forward, pulling a sobbing Harry up to his feet and quickly leaving for the Hospital Wing, Pomfrey hot on her heels.

Directed to a bed, Pomfrey tipped a calming draught down his throat. McGonagall and she watched as Harry relaxed bonelessly into the mattress, eyes still glazed over... he looked so _dead_.

They left him alone, not noticing his pleading eyes following their backs the entire way. He didn't want to be alone... not now...

Merlin how he wanted to scream his throat hoarse.

The covers around his bed were suddenly parted, Harry's breath hitched when Dumbledore stepped between the opening, "P-Professor..." he whispered, eyes wetting with tears again, "I... I didn't mean to do it! I didn't mean to make him do it!" he cried, sitting up rapidly and ignoring the churning off his stomach.

Dumbledore pushed Harry back down, his eyes stern and somber without a light in them. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, "I'm sorry..."

"Please, Harry. Calm down... tell me what happened."

"Ron..." Harry started, not caring for the tears that were spilling down his cheeks, "Ron was—_is_ my best mate. He's a great guy, a bit dense and slow sometimes... but he's an excellent friend," he paused, licking his dry lips and tasting the bitter taste of blood on them, "... I made him angry... a few days before—... told him it was his fault. If he didn't have that bloody rat Moony wouldn't have died. I told him that... I was so angry... it was all my fault. I egged him on so he went off, hunting for that rat and when he found him... he was already surrounded by so many enemies."

Harry took a gulp of air, trying to slow his heart and closed his eyes tiredly, "A spy from the light was with him... he told us everything. How Ron took out more than half of the bastards... lost limbs... blood everywhere. Then... he did get to him, that _rat._.. ... when we found Ron... he was dead. And his head was another twenty feet away," his calm, stoic voice and expression sent goosebumps over Dumbledore's arms. The elder man reached out and gently stroked Harry's hair, "... it's all right..." he spoke clearly, but softly.

Harry turned to him and offered a weak smile, "... The other was hit with the Killing Curse. I made him do it. Ron's death is my fault... the fact that Hermione's widowed is my fault..."

Dumbledore waited silently, Harry's breath slowed and the tears stopped after a few minutes passed. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and his nails were digging into the palm of his hand... the grief passed... only to be replaced with anger.

But that quickly disappeared the moment Dumbledore leaned forward and took the boy into his arms in a gentle embrace. Harry stiffened at the contact and looked up at Dumbledore's face, relaxing slightly when the man brushed his dark hair back with gnarled hands, "You did not kill him, Mr. Potter. You did not force him to do anything. Humans... muggles and wizards alike, work in strange ways. We must all finish what we have started. I'm sorry for your friend, but he's probably happier than you realize."

"... I only wanted to tell him I loved him..." Harry bit his trembling lip.

"He probably knows Mr. Potter... he probably does."

Harry smiled, taking in the lemon scent on the Headmaster's robes and fell asleep.

* * *

The sun was beginning to leave his sense a dark red haze, slowly Harry opened his eyes and winced when the sunlight attacked his sensitive eyes. A chuckle sounded next to him and Harry looked up to find a blurry figure of Remus sitting in a chair near his bed.

Remus handed him his glasses and Harry slipped them off, rubbing the bridge of his nose sheepishly when Remus rolled his amber eyes, "Gave us all quite a fright you know."

Harry nodded his head, then eyed him curiously.

As if reading his mind, Remus smiled and explained, "... well... you used to sit by my bedside like so. I only thought I should return the favor."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully and grinned when Remus smacked his arm. Their good mood disappeared and was replaced with discomfort as Remus leaned forward and frowned, "Are you... okay?"

A minute passed in silence after his question, Harry laid in his bed with his eyes closed and shook his head solemnly. Remus sighed, a sad smile and a shrug, "Didn't think you would be. I know better then to ask questions, so I won't. Everyone has secrets."

Harry only nodded, his now opened eyes staring intently at his hands. Remus figured the boy wasn't in any state to be talking soon so he continued talking, "There was a lot of leftover scrambled eggs during breakfast. Everyone knows you really love that stuff. Most of the other kids tend to side with the sausages and ham, fruit here and there. You don't even _touch_ that stuff, only eggs and toast.

I personally like the marmalade jam spread on top of a toasty French bread slice and some strawberries. The house elves know to spread chocolate all over them for me. I'm a proud chocolate-addict!" he grinned when Harry smiled a bit, "'Course, you have people like James who eats wheat cereal. Disgusting. What child our age eats wheat, sugarless cereal. Doused in milk no-less. And then Lily has her dainty, fruit breakfast, she doesn't touch anything else. Women, really. Sirius is a meat person... sausages tend to give me a headache, pork in general actually. Seeing him scarf those down like it's his last meal tend to make me a bit green," Remus pulled a face and shook his head solemnly.

He stared at Harry for a few second, seeing the hint of a smile on his lips and resumed his mindless babble, "Class was okay so far. Snape asked where you were, so we said so. I don't know if he'll visit you or anything but he worked alone today... kinda sad, really. But it's only been the first class, it's my break period right now... I'm being a good friend and visiting you. Hah, actually the truth is no one's finished with next period's History of Magic essay except for Lily and Damocles, but they had some other thing to do. Lily promised to visit you later on her own time. We didn't tell her anything, just so you know. She'll ask, no doubt... you don't have to tell her... but she was worried.

Remus licked his lips, eyes roaming around the ceiling as he thought of a topic, "Hmm... it's December now. Hogwarts is great, isn't it? I mean... I love my dad and all... but... Hogwarts is... it's something else. It's pure magic here. And I never thought I'd land in Gryffindor! My dad was one but I didn't think I'd have the right stuff for it. But I'm glad I did, or else I wouldn't have been such good friends with you. You're my best friend y'know. Accepted me for who I was and all... not many kids would do that. Most of them would run screaming...

... and because I'm a werewolf... it'll be hard in the future. There won't be many people wanting to hire a werewolf... can't keep sponging off my dad, no matter how tempting that sounds," he barked a laugh. A forced, frightful one, "... I shouldn't be thinking about careers already. I'm only eleven. I keep telling you the same, but I put the same stresses on myself. I'm a horrible hypocrite. Sorry, Harry. But... I—don't tell anyone, but I want to a teacher. Any sort. I'd love to come back to Hogwarts and work here... teach magic to students. It's a dream..."

"... you'd make a swell professor," Harry spoke to Remus for the first time that day, a light in his eyes and a tender look on his face.

Remus blushed to the tips of his ear and rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling softly.

Madam Pomfrey came within a few minutes, chasing the boy out and checking over Harry before deeming him healthy and well with a hesitant frown, "Now, you make sure if you feel off to come here as soon as possible."

Harry nodded, "Yes ma'am," he replied and left the Hospital Wing, Pomfrey's worried eyes following his back the entire way. The boy immediately walked up to the tower.

With the password, the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and the many Gryffindors spread all over the Common Room glanced up and the ones that recognized Harry jumped to their feet with a grin and open arms, "Harry!" James called first and thumped the black-haired boy on the back, "We were worried _sick_!"

Xiaoue followed James and placed a large hand on Harry's considerably thin shoulders, "You alright?"

"I'm good," Good... not fine.

Sirius, who never left his spot on the floor but sat up, smirked, "And just in time for History of Magic. We all know it's _your_ favorite class," he drawled sarcastically. Harry groaned and smacked his forehead.

"Hey, at least transfiguration is after. We know you dislike_ that _class," James said, matching Sirius's long intone, earning him the boy's glare. James smiled sweetly back at him.

Harry chuckled at the boys' game and looked around the room, pausing on Damocles and Edward at a table and smiled at them. Damocles made a face and turned around, Edward waved but was brought back to the attention of whatever was on the table by sharp tug on his sleeve by his best friend. Harry's good mood diminished a tad.

Sitting around and often helping his friends out on their essays, it was soon enough time for their next class; Harry rushed upstairs to grab his books then hurriedly joined the other boys.

Harry normally spent History of Magic getting the idea of that day's lessons and writing down vital information down on parchment for notes. He would then distribute those notes to those who wanted it.

After the class ended, Harry neatly stacked everything together and tucked it under his arms. Sirius tiredly rubbed his forehead with a yawn, "Is there a red mark on my face? I slept on it..."

Harry shook his head, but indeed there was a glaring red blemish on his right cheek. Peter, who stood beside him, snickered softly, but refrained from commenting. They all walked down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry, starved due to missing breakfast that day, found his seat across from Lily and Remus, and next to Xiaoue and Sirius. Peter joined them, sitting near Remus with a shy smile. They filled their plates with food that appeared magically in the dishes and bowls before them, exchanging small talk.

Lily, who was strangely quiet, turned to Harry with worried, green eyes and a frown, "Are you alright, Harry? The boys told me you were in the Hospital Wing. Were you hurt?"

Harry set down his fork and knife silently, "No, I wasn't injured. I was just... in a bad state of mind. Horrible nightmare... I was... slightly scared—terrified, actually. It was nothing."

"... Harry... if you need anything, you _can_ talk to me about them. I mean... I hardly think you'll tell a _boy_ about your nightmare. Mum says men are insensitive. But Harry, you're different! You're so sweet—unlike some people," she sneaked James, who sat with the upperclassmen, a glare.

Harry laughed and shook his head, "I'm fine. Thank you for worrying."

"It's a friend's job to worry."

"... thank you."

Lunch ended and everyone returned to their common rooms to gather their things for the next class.

The first-year Gryffindors had transfiguration after lunch with Ravenclaws. They were taught to transfigure leaves into a small, purple ball. Lecturing on getting flat objects to change into a round shape, McGonagall allowed the students to perform the spell that would allow such. Harry achieved it easily, he gave the transfiguration professor a pleased smile which faded when McGonagall's stern gaze did not break into kindness as it usually did.

The class ended with a good number of students leaving with a ball in their hands and the others with some deformed shape. Professor McGonagall stopped Harry from leaving, "Are you fine? Should you not be in bed?" she asked.

"It was simply a bad dream—"

"Of a bad memory," McGonagall cut in. Harry pursed his lips and did not reply, so McGonagall continued on, "I am your Head of House. I don't know if it was that way in your life, but I am here to help you. As long as you come to me Mr. Potter."

"... I understand."

McGonagall nodded, "Go on ahead."

Harry did leave, pausing outside the door and blocking out the students' chatter filling up the halls during the passing period.

Yes, a bad memory. A bad memory that would forever haunt his mind... Harry shut his eyes and let out a trembling sigh.

How hot the sun must've been...

* * *

The next few weeks passed peacefully. Christmas was just around the corner and the students were caught up in the holiday cheer, most of them excited about going back home.

Harry looked around the common room boredly. He had given up on finishing his newest read a few minutes ago and settled with watching the first-year girls giggle and titter. His attention was swept away when a tuft of black hair came into view and Harry smiled, "'Lo, Xiao."

"Don't call me that, Riddle," Xiaoue grumbled, settling himself comfortably up against the couch.

"Hmm... are you leaving for the holidays?" Harry asked, absently running his hands over Xiaoue's scalp, earning himself and slap on the wrist from the other boy.

"Yep."

James, Peter, and Lily were leaving for their homes as well; each of them were seen with happy flushes on their faces most of the time. Harry often smiled wistfully, he never went home for the holidays...

He often had Ron at his side, Hermione as well... but they still had their respective homes to return to with their loving family. Harry's stomach churned at the thought of the Dursleys.

But he wouldn't be alone at least, Remus and Sirius was staying behind as well. Though... Sirius was looking forward on returning... he knew he wouldn't be welcomed back that quickly after receiving five howlers, all of them screaming in shrill voices, "TRAITOR OF MY BLOOD!" Harry closed his eyes as he recognized Mrs. Black's voice.

The day after the howler incident, Sirius walked up to Harry with a sour expression, "Will you come with me Riddle?"

Harry hadn't even asked where they were going to go. He stood up immediately and followed.

He secretly suspected some rule-breaking, he eyed the back of Sirius's head suspicious. He was surprised when he caught the same pretty blond from the night of the sorting waiting for Sirius in front of the bust of Paracelsus.

"Cousin," the blond made a face, lifting her sharp nose in the air and narrowing her eyes, "I do not particularly want to be seen with you..."

"Too bad, hag," Sirius snapped, stuffing his hands into his pocket moodily, "... look... I just... need you to tell Regulus that I'm sorry."

The girl looked about to protest, "I'm not _going_ to that _miserable_ place—"

"Then at least by owl! Mother sends back all the ones I sent. I just need Regulus..." grey eyes turned to the floor and Sirius's tense shoulder relaxed considerably, "... I only need Regulus...

The blond clicked her tongue, glaring at Sirius with cold blue eyes, "I'd say 'no,' but if Regulus gets wind of our little encounter here, he'd throw a right fit," she drawled.

Sirius smirked superiorly, "... Goodbye Narcissa."

Harry blinked at the blond before him in realization. Narcissa Malf—Black. His eyes were fixed on her pale face he didn't notice when Sirius turned around and made to leave, "... come on Riddle," the boy grunted impatiently.

At his name Narcissa blinked and turned her eyes to him, "Riddle?" she asked, smiling cooly when he nodded in an affirmative, "Ah... my other speaks of you often."

Harry didn't have to guess to as who this "other" was, he already shook his head in disgust and spit the name out as if it tasted like Polyjuice, "Malfoy does?"

Narcissa took no notice to Harry's tone, she continued to smile pleasantly, "Yes."

"... tell him I don't appreciate stalker tendacies, that big-forehead."

Sweeping her blond hair back, Narcissa smirked with a raised eyebrow, "Very well," and with a flutter of her robes behind her, she left the two first-years.

Harry followed Sirius back to the common room with a frown, "Why did you call me out with you?"

Sirius made a small noise in the back of his throat, "In case she had less-than-welcomed company. You were to stop me from doing something stupid and Gryffindor."

Harry only smiled.

Leaning his head back tiredly, Harry squeaked when he felt a sudden, sharp pressure on his stomach and looked up in surprise. Xiaoue was standing over him with a finger pressed against his abdomen, "James just called us out for a snowball fight, you coming?"

Harry snorted and lifted himself up, "I'm feeling a bit violent. Don't start crying when I decide your face belongs in the snow."

"You'll be eating those words, Harry."

They both had ended up being pelted repeatedly... severely. In fact, no one escaped the wrath of the Hood twins.

Third years David and Alex Hood decide to test out their aim on their fellow housemates, causing all of them scrambling for safety. The two were nothing like Fred and George, being sweet and polite... although they had a sharp eye and mad accuracy in spells and obviously throwing things. Harry rubbed his red fingers together and blew on them, a shaky smile on his face as he shared a look with Edward, "What our chance of winning against them in their own game?"

"Close to none."

"Good."

With a war cry, Harry ran out from behind his trench, armed with snowballs. All the others quickly followed his lead and it wasn't long before the offending twins were buried in snow.

"We won! We won!" James cried, hooking arms with an exhausted Harry and equally tired Remus, swinging them around until they lost their balance and fell face-first into the snow.

It was a good idea at that point to simply curl up in front of the fire with a mug of hot chocolate.

Harry had pulled out his Book of Light for the first time in weeks, cradling it in his lap with a quill in his hand. It was late, everyone else had already gone up to bed and Harry, unable to fall asleep, supported Remus's head on his shoulder as the werewolf slept against him, "Birds... Seraphs..." he quickly jotted down in the margins

"What useless information."

Harry flinched at the sudden voice that came from behind and craned his head without moving his body as to not disturb Remus, "Professor Dumbledore..." he breathed in surprise.

The aged wizard smiled kindly, peering down at the top of Remus's head through his half-moon glasses, "What do birds and angels have to do with time?" he inquired.

Harry blinked and pushed his own glasses up, "... nothing, sir," he answered honestly, "But this whole book has nothing to do with time."

Dumbledore chuckled and neatly plucked said-textbook from Harry's hands. He patiently flipped through the pages, his blue eyes roaming around, "You marked many pages haven't you? There is only one section to do with Time Magic. You missed it entirely—"

"Well I'm trying!" Harry burst out, biting his lip and sneaking a glance at Remus, "... It's hard being eleven again. I doubt you'd understand."

Dumbledore nodded, a small smile on his lips. He paused his movements, looking up from the book to the boy with his firey-green gaze, "It's been a long time since I've been eleven..."

Harry sniffed and looked away, bring his knees up to his chin and hugging them close to his body, "Well... it's hadn't been that long for me. I'm doing my best Headmaster... don't ridicule me for trying."

"Harry... I think you're trying too hard."

A instant wave of fury washed over Harry's body, an anger that seemed so familiar to him—he quelled it down immediately and shut his eyes, focusing on the comforting weight of Remus on his side, "... thank you for your help Professor Dumbledore." Dumbledore does not reply, he simply walked forward to place the book and pressing down the corner of the page he wanted Harry to refer to.

He left without another word, for which Harry was grateful for.

Giving another glance at the slightly glowing book, Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head back tiredly. The stress was maddening...

Slowly, he pulled Remus off of him and left him on the couch, but not before spreading his blanket over him. He trekked up the spiraling staircase to the boy's dormitory in order to get a bit of sleep.

He never noticed Remus's amber eyes following him the entire way.

-be continued-

Title from "Tomo e" by Junko Iwao. As you might tell... I love Ron Weasley. And James Potter. And Dumbledore. Which is rare around here... to love all three of these characters. Just take me as special and don't hate me for it please. :D  
**EDITED**: 12-26-2007


	14. Year I: That Smile

Looked through Google out of morbid curiousity... Xiaoue seems to be a very unused, female's name. I'm sorry original character... you happened to come from a yaoi manga.

**014..."****Magic is in That Smile, Isn't It?****"**

Students and professors alike were bustling over the school. The holiday decorations were coming up beautifully and the students who weren't in a hurry to pack were watching the process in awe.

Harry wished to be down there with them while Flitwick levitated a golden star to the top of the tallest of the gathered trees. But no, he was stuck with neatly folding Xiaoue's clothes and stacking them on top of each other into his case, because Xiaoue needed to leave and Harry forgot the spell that did it for them.

After finishing up, they met Lily and Remus downstairs and quickly left to meet the carriages outside.

"Promise to write, okay?" Lily smiled and heaved her trunk up into the carriage. Harry nodded and waved, "Bye, have a good holiday."

Lily inclined her head, taking her seat next to her friend and drawing her into a conversation. Xiaoue waved brightly out the window as the carriage began moving, "Have a good holiday!" he yelled.

Harry laughed, waving back energetically until the Xiaoue's head disappeared into the carriage. He turned to face Remus with an amused grin, one that wasn't returned. Harry blinked, "... is something wrong?" he asked.

Remus paused, a frown on his lips and he shook his head, "No. Nothing's wrong," he responded blandly, walking ahead of Harry. The dark-haired boy started at the aloof attitude and tried to think of anything he did to wrong the werewolf.

He walked slowly behind Remus, feeling a sudden heaviness in his shoulders with each step.

* * *

Christmas the next day was uninvited, Harry thought. He wanted to just stay curled up in bed, not be awakened by the sun in his eyes. He sat up to draw the curtain in, but as he laid back down after he did so, he couldn't fall back asleep. 

So he grudgingly pulled himself out of bed and went to the restroom to wash himself up for the morning. The disgustingly cold water on his face jolted him awake soon enough.

Returning back to his bed to pull out his trunk and change into his robes, Harry barely noticed the stack of presents at the foot of his bed. He was alone in the dormitory, and with a long look at the innocent boxes on the floor, he sighed and reached forward for a smaller box at the top wrapped in silver paper.

He quickly read the card, signed by Sirius, and blinked in surprise that the cool boy had gotten him a present. With a bright grin, he opened the boc and stroked the new quill that laid in the middle of it. He hummed, pleased, and continued on the others.

Xiaoue had sent him a fresh copy of "_Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy__,"_Remus had written him a long card (one that Harry couldn't wait to read), a scarf holding the Gryffindor colors from Lily (it didn't look like she knitted it herself... or Harry could just be underestimating Lily's skill...), James had thoughtfully bought him a Quidditch design bookmark ("For my favorite bookworm" he wrote out at the top...).

After Harry had finished Remus's card he rushed to the Great Hall and beamed when he spotted Sirius and Remus sitting next to each other, playing a game of chess. He ran forward and grabbed Remus around the neck ,"Thank you!" he cried, then reached over to give Sirius a hug as well, "Thank y—ew!"

Harry jumped back in horror when he spotted a pack of maggots on the table. Sirius shrugged, "My mother thought it would be funny."

"... hilarious..." Harry shuddered. At least he knew where Kreacher got his sense of humour from. He turned away from the crawling worms and to Remus, "Thank you for the card, I loved it."

Remus blushed a bright red and wringed his hands, "Sorry... I couldn't get you anything else."

Harry laughed and shook his head, "It's all I needed." The werewolf smiled back and Harry was glad he was no longer ignoring him. Sirius cooly invited him to sit down with them and play winner. (Sirius won fairly quickly... and Harry didn't stand a chance.)

Snape cornered him later that day, his face a slight pink and Harry could see the small bag of sweets he had requested from Dumbledore for his friends... and the Slytherin. Snape never said anything about the Christmas gift and Harry wasn't surprised as their discussion consisted only of potions, occasionally dealing with a subject such as Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms.

"Um, Snape," Harry started, checking over his nails with interest, "I'm afraid I can't work on the potions during the break."

Snape looked up, startled as his black eyes showed it, "What?" the boy demanded, "What do you have to do? The professors haven't assigned us any holiday work, I'm certain you can play with your friends during the day, what could possibly keep you from the potion?"

Harry bites his lip and glance at Snape pleadingly, "Please, can we just drop it? It's only for the holiday. I'm certain you have better things to do anyway—"

"On the contrary Riddle. I don't," dark eyes narrowed in irritation. Snape stood up, gathering his books and notes, "I'm not going to waste my time on listening to you."

He didn't get very far as Harry's hand clasped around the back of his robe and tugged him, "Aren't you being disagreeable!" he exploded, no one else was in the library at this time so he felt free to do so, "I have life outside of you Snape! Realize that and stop being a prat!" And he released Snape, gathered up his own belongings and stomped out of the library, leaving the other behind.

He honestly wanted some time with the Moon Hallucinogen... He couldn't tell Snape the truth, nor did he want to. But if he was to do this, he needed his full concentration on this potion or he would easily mess up somewhere in the middle. He couldn't take any chances with this one.

Harry rushed up the common room to blow off some steam. Snape was the same git he was back in Harry Potter's life.

"Hey Riddle," the fifth-year, Timothy Marksman greeted. Timothy was a chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and an acquaintance of James's. Harry grudgingly smiled back and settled himself down on the couch next to the older boy, "How are you?" Harry asked politely.

Timothy ran a large, calloused hand through his short brown locks and shrugged, "Just a bit bored. We're moving over the holiday, but Mum doesn't want me to break anything so she told me to stay here. Pity, I think I would've been a great help. I'm really good at lifting things!"

Harry didn't doubt it, he self-consciously eyed the other's bulging muscles. Timothy must have noticed as he laughed and thumped Harry on the back, "Don't worry, little man! You'll grow," he laughed even harder when Harry coughed at the sheer force behind the patting, "Hey, you any good at Quidditch?"

"Only thing I have active confidence in... that's before I fall off and accidentally cause myself bodily harm."

Timothy grinned and eagerly gripped Harry's considerably smaller hand in his own, "Come on then firstie! Grab your coat! We're going outside and I'm going to enjoy pounding you into the clouds."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the challenge, smiling brilliantly in response, "The clouds? That's the best you can do?"

"Seeing your size it won't be hard to send you to Mars. Move it Riddle!"

In a flash, Harry dashed up to the dormitory, grabbing his coat and wrapping it over his shoulder and guiding his arms through the appropriate holes, he ran back down and he exchanged smirks with the older student.

"Oh, and one more thing Riddle," Marksman stopped the first-year with a hand on his shoulder, "You show me any amazing skills, I can assure you, they will all reach the captain's ears."

Harry snorted, shrugging the hand off, "I don't need you mouthing off to anyone else, keep my talents secret, I'll shock your captain right out of his socks."

Timothy let out a thunderous laughter that matched his size, "Brat!" he growled good-naturedly.

Of course, the moment they were on their brooms at the Quidditch pitch, the snow flying everywhere as they kicked off, Harry knew the broom under him was different... he would adjust.

And adjust he did. Timothy was soon circling the sky, screaming at the clouds, "A natural! A bloody natural!"

They landed soon and Timothy's mouth ran quicker than Harry's mind was able to take after the rush of adrenaline that was still coursing through his body, "—Oscar would be delighted to have you yet! I swear it Harry Riddle, you have managed to capture my respect with that bloody amazing Wronski Feint. And how you caught that Snitch right out of the air! Action man! It was like _zoom—zoom—fwip!_"

Harry shook his head lightly and resumed staring blankly up at Timothy as he talked excitedly and made wild movements to accentuate his story, "Mm... Tim... I think you need to sit down."

Timothy sniffed, "Don't tell me what to do Harry, I'll pop you one."

Harry was absolutely bewildered, "Pop me what?"

"He means he'll land a fist on your face, Harry."

Harry tensed at the sudden, yet familiar voice and he peeked behind him, smiling when he caught Remus, "Hey," the boy greeted cheerfully. He quickly deflated when Remus didn't respond and only stared at the fifth-year behind him. Timothy caught the stare and raised his brows, "Okay... I'll leave then... see you 'round, Harry," he waved and briskly walked away from the pair, throwing curious looks over his shoulder.

"Is something the matter?" Harry asked in a soft voice. It was meant to be prompting and soothing... not a tone to earn him a slightly peeved glance.

"... I heard your conversation with Dumbledore last night..."

The rest of Remus's words were lost on him as time seemed to stop around Harry. The wind was whipping his hair but he was numb to the cold... he began to quiver, "What?" he managed to choke out. Remus looked decidedly unimpressed, "I heard it. Something about you being eleven again and how hard it is—what... _who_ are you?"

Harry looked away, his throat was tightening up... so much he found it difficult to speak, "Remus—I don't think that—"

"Don't finish that sentence, Riddle... if that really is your name. Now answer me truthfully. Who are you?"

Harry blinked away the tears that stung his eyes and swiftly rubbed his cheeks in case they unknowingly fell, "... Harry. I'm Harry."

Remus narrowed his eyes and the amber of them grew darker, "Are you really?" Harry nodded, hand coming up to grip the cloth of his heart, "Yes. I'm Harry... but I'm not Riddle."

What was he going to do? What was he going to do about this? Nobody could know... nobody _should_ know—

"Then? If you're not Harry Riddle... then who are you."

A shuddered breath... Harry shut his eyes and turned his head away, "... Potter... Harry Potter."

Harry heard a sharp intake of breath and he glanced up to find Remus's large, disbelieving eyes on his, "... Potter? That's a lie!"

"It's not! It's not a lie! I _am_ Harry Potter!"

"That doesn't explain to me the 'eleven' again part, Harry _Potter_."

The way Remus spat his name like a disease almost brought him to the edge. Harry placed a hand over his eyes tiredly, his other arm wrapping around his thin body. His Professor Lupin wasn't so harsh... he would've listened before attacking him so viciously. Had Remus forgotten the fact he cared enough for him to sit at his bedside each time he landed in the hospital wing? Had he forgotten that Harry had not judged him, _ever_

"... I'm from the future," Harry confessed, voice as steady as he could get it and he peek out over his hand, the cool flesh on his nose, "... James Potter... he's my dad."

Remus twitched visibly at the very thought, "... but... he's so different from you..."

A small smile spread on Harry's pale lips and the body shrugged indifferently, "Maybe... I look like him though."

Remus silently agreed, but he still had a hard time digesting all this information. When he approached Harry with demands of answers... he had a general idea of what it could be... time travel... though... something like this...

"D—were we friend in your time?"

Harry blinked, frowning at Remus's wistful expression and allowed himself to chuckle, "Yes... yes, we were wonderful friends," Professor Lupin was all he had left... he had left him though... he had left him too soon and Harry faced the world alone. It would not be like that here.

Harry slowly tucked a hand into his robe pocket, he fingered his wand, "Remus... these things you know now... the things you'll know later... I can't promise you safety if you know too much."

"Too much? My safety? What are you talking about?" Remus backed away, nervously eyeing the hand in the pocket.

And Harry drew his wand, advancing on the werewolf, "Dark times loom overhead. It's just a few miles high... it'll come down upon us... and some knowledge is best left alone. Like my secret."

Remus blinked, glancing up at Harry's face warily, "... I left you with_my_ secret."

"And I'm sorry life is unfair to you..." _to us all..._ "but I won't be adding to that pain," Harry raised his wand, aiming it between where the hippocampus of the brain would be, "_Obliviate_"

The spell left the wand in a flash, giving Remus no time to retaliate or escape.

Harry watched as Remus went lax under the spell and closed his eyes. The Memory Charm was complex... so complex it was near dangerous. If anyone other than a professional attempted the spell, the victim would have a serious brain disorder to complete memory loss—such as Gilderoy Lockhart's case. A caster would need to have complete accuracy between the hippocampus and the inferior temporal cortex and a firm grasp of the memory they would want to modify or erase. Harry smirked wryly, in the end... it was all Lockhart was good with.

"We were talking about Quidditch... forget about this discussion and my talk with Dumbledore... and never bring it up," Harry sighed, "... just forget."

Remus blinked rapidly, as if waking up after a quick nap and frowned, "Harry? ... what am I doing out here?"

"We were talking about Quidditch. And you dozed off... on your feet."

Harry grinned when the werewolf colored and pinched himself on the cheek, "Oh... well... I don't think I had a very good sleep last night. ... though I don't know why..." Harry raised an eyebrow and wrapped an arm around Remus's shoulder, "Remus, my friend, you sure you weren't dropped on your head as a baby?"

"... want me to drop your head now?" Remus asked darkly, though a light in his eyes told otherwise. Harry laughed and ran forward, the werewolf still in arm, "C'mon Lupin! Show us your wolf-skills!"

"What wolf-skills—? Harry! I'm going to trip!"

Harry laughed all the way... inwardly he was quietly whispering, "_I'm sorry... I'm sorry."_

* * *

Harry bit his lip to keep from grinning like a fool. He peeked at the dog-eared parchment with a list of ingredients and directions for his time potion. Harry continued humming. 

He had already blown two cauldrons up, he carefully eyed the disfigured and melted pots at the corner and shrugged. He wasn't talented in the art of potions at all... but he could cook decently, and if he pretended he was making a pot of broth for the Dursleys it would come out somewhat better... or so he hoped.

Harry dropped in minced Kaffir lime leaves for a delicate aroma (or so the page said) and smiled when the potion quickly turned an attractive, green shade.

The potion would require to stay simmering for a week until it grew out of the green color into a red one... Harry stirred as the text directed.

Soon... it would be soon.

Christmas break ended with a groan from all the Gryffindors. Classes resumed and the holiday cheer still lingering in all the students in beginning to melt away like the snow. Harry, without hesitating, skipped his morning classes (which consisted of Double Herbology) to have a cup of tea with Dumbledore.

After gaining entrance from the gargoyle who learned to recognize him, Harry swiftly knocked and opened the door once the staircases reached the top.

Dumbledore looked decently surprised when Harry appeared and smiled, "Have you forgiven me then?"

Harry shrugged with a smirk, "Can't say I have... though... I don't think I have impulses to shave your beard off." Dumbledore feigned horror at the very thought and gripped his silver beard like a lifeline. He chuckled lowly and ushered Harry into the boy's favorite, red chair, "How have you been, Mr. Potter? Tea?"

"No thank you, Headmaster," Harry smiled politely whilst curling up into a tight ball, "... Remus heard our conversation that night."

"... Mr. Lupin—I see... and what did you do to him?"

"... what makes you think I _did_ anything to him?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and didn't dignify Harry's question with an answer. The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes, "I obliviated him."

"Without his consent?" Dumbledore asked, worried. Harry frowned and looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes with his own green, "... do you think he'd give it to me? He was quite blunt in asking questions and he seemed to be hostile. I only did what would best insure his safety."

"His safety, Mr. Potter?"

Harry laughed bitterly, "Dark times, Professor Dumbledore... dark times come. I told him this too before I erased his memory. If they somehow got ahold of the information that _Harry Potter_ was here and _who_ he was and _what_ he did... the world would be in danger."

Dumbledore calmly sipped his tea, Harry eyed his critically, and the aged wizard met his gaze steadily, "This is not your world Mr. Potter... leave it to the ones who belong here."

Harry was struck speechless and a laughter bubbled out of him like a potion gone bad. He wrapped an arm around his stomach in an effort to hold his breath and ward the pain away, "You're right!" he chimed through giggles, "You're absolutely right, Professor! What business do I have here? I have to get home... I have a life back home—I'm Harry Potter back home. My world... my world of death and life—the edge of the knife... home..." a warm feeling spread through Harry's chest, "... but Professor... I have a bad case of Hero-complex. I think I need to save this world before going home."

Dumbledore did not reply. Harry did not expect him to.

They shared each other's company for a moment longer, before Harry left for lunch.

The Great Hall was already packed with students when Harry entered and quickly went over to Gryffindor's table and sat down next to Sirius who smirked at him, "Decided to join us?"

Harry ignored him in favor of the sandwiches and chicken. Lily looked at Harry with a bright smile and pulled him into conversation, "How has your break been?" she asked sincerely. Harry grinned back and scratched his cheek, "Uneventful..." _for the most part,_ "And your break?"

Lily quirked a grin and shrugged, "Hmm... typical Christmas. Opened presents—oh! Thank you for those sweets. My mum thought the Chocolate Frogs were _brilliant_." Harry laughed, "I'm happy she enjoyed them. And thanks for the scarf, I love it. Did you knit it yourself?"

Lily colored a bit and tilted her head to the side sheepishly, "Well... yes, but Petunia helped me along the way. She's unnaturally talented with things like this."

Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. His aunt knit? Harry nodded slowly, then turned to Xiaoue and James, "And how did you two spend your Christmas?"

"Fantastically," Xiaoue spoke around his fork, "The entire family was over. My room is littered with wrapping paper," he grinned impishly, his brown eyes lighting up, "And did you receive my present?"

"I saw the book before, but when I was looking through it—it was so interesting! I mean... some of these things, the people in the book and how all the families are related to one another. I already knew most purebloods married _other_ purebloods, but it's still surprising what you can find—"

"As I said," James cut in bluntly, "'My favorite bookworm," he smirked when Harry glared, "_Thank you_, Mr. Potter."

"You're welcome Mr. Riddle. And as you asked before Xiaoue _rudely_ cut in before me," he gave the said-boy a mock frown, "my Christmas was fabulous."

"... that's it?" Xiaoue asked.

"That's it."

Harry shook his head and returned to his lunch. He sympathized with James not wanting to talk about his Christmas. He had met his grandfather—James's father—before... even as a ghost Hadwinn Potter was _not_ a very nice man.

He had loved his only son... though... Harry grimaced, he had hated all of James's friends, except for pureblood Sirius.

"Okay," Harry accepted, earning James's thankful gaze and returned to his lunch. The rest of their time was spent with small talk and childish chatter.

Potions came soon after, Harry silently dreaded the class as he reluctantly trudged behind his friends who shot him looks over their shoulders.

After what he had said to Snape that Christmas day... Harry wasn't ready for another argument after what he had to do to Remus.

As usual, when the group of Gryffindors entered the dungeon the first one there was Snape. Ignoring him, although Harry looked pointedly down at the ground with fists, they walked to their seats and set their bags on the table, pulling out their supplies in preparations.

Harry reached into his book bag to pull out his cauldron and frowned.

"Harry? Xiaoue asked tentatively, looking sideways at his friend. Harry gave him a small smile, dragged his bag off the table and back over his shoulder, "I'm going to go sit with my partner."

The other boy gave Snape a small glance and shrugged, "Alright," Harry _always_ worked with the Slytherin, he wasn't so sure why the boy was bothering to tell him of his momentary departure.

Coughing into his hand, Harry got Snape's attention and the boy's black eyes widened for a second before narrowing, "What's the matter Riddle? Come to tell me you don't want a Slytherin working with you? Well, let me tell you right now you slimy—"

Harry set his bag down with a heavy thunk. He stared evenly at Snape, waiting patiently as the boy's enraged face slowly set into one of confusion, "Shut up for a second and listen to me," Harry hissed, "I promised... I promised I'd _never_ take that potion away from you. And I will bloody _stick_ to my promise. I don't know what you thought I was doing, but to think that you have such little _faith_ in me is truly disappointing."

With a slight pause, Harry watched Snape's reaction and was satisfied with his lax expression and slightly rounded eyes, "I'm not here to say anything about that potion, but the one we're going to work on today in class. Is that clear?"

Snape frowned, "Transparent," he replied, "... though... I don't know why you decided to come back, especially since—"

"You acted like a prat?" Harry cut in abruptly.

"—you can easily befriend the entire class with the Gryffindor thing you've got going on for you," Snape raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips.

Harry didn't know if he should take Snape's words as a compliment or a very complex insult that only he could pull off, "It's my choice. Besides, why should I avoid you? We're usually the only people without partners so it makes perfect sense!"

"You would settle for someone like me?" Snape asked, his tone clearly drenched with disbelief and a hint of "are you daft?"

"Yes," Harry said simply, turning away and setting up for the lab, "Besides, not all Slytherins are nice."

Snape's eyebrow near reached his forehead, "And I am?"

Harry's lips quirked into a smirk and he looked up to the dungeon ceilings in thought, "... I think you're the worse of the lot."

Snape seemed satisfied with the answer.

* * *

Harry trekked up to the owlery, his pace slow and patient. He had no one to send a letter off to, and Hegwig probably wasn't even conceived yet... he simply wanted a place to think where he would be comfortable and alone.

Too deep in though, Harry nearly ran into someone, his head bumping into a hard stomach and he reeled back violently—losing his step on the stairs and flailing his arms wildly he attempted to regain balance—

A strong hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward and back on his feet. Steadying himself, Harry looked up to apologize and thank... the words died on his lips as he stared up at the strong-jawed, blue-eyed man that Harry recalled seeing—in St. Mungo's Hospital... driven to insanity... the father of a powerful and kind man.

"Longbottom," Harry squeaked.

Frank blinked and half-smiled, "Alright there—" he peeked at the name tag on Harry's robes, "—Riddle?" Harry nodded at the average-sized, yet broad shouldered teen with sense of wonder and amazement. The last time they saw Frank was after Augusta had died of a heart attack... they went to deliver the news to her son.

To see bright and shining intelligence in those eyes were almost breathtaking... if only Neville were here to see this.

Frank nodded back curtly and released Harry, stepping around him with a grin, "I've seen you around the common room, I'm always out so you might not know me... heard you were smart."

Harry flushed and kicked at the ground awkwardly, "Yeah..."

"Well, best get going. Don't stay up there too long, Riddle. You'll catch cold! It's a prefect's job y'know, looking out for the firsties," he laughed jovially and waved at the younger boy as he ran down the stairs with confident grace, "See you 'round, kid!"

Harry weakly waved back and turned around to run into another body.

"I'm sorry!" Harry cried, grabbing at the railing and keeping himself from falling backwards. He looked up and smiled weakly at the girl. She was a pretty and clean-looking Asian, a Ravenclaw from the tie she wore.

The girl frowned and nodded, "You're forgiven," she stepped around Harry and walked past, her strides quick and purposeful. The Gryffindor stared at her disappearing backside with a tick in his eyes, "You're forgiven?" he whispered, slightly irritated. With a sigh he brushed a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers broke through tangles.

He reached the owlery and pet a brown, school owl peacefully, smiling when the bird cooed under his hands. He nearly had forgotten about the two run-ins of the day...

There was a crash and a small, unintelligible squak. It startled the birds and Harry as the boy turned on his heel and blinked at Xiaoue, "What are you doing here?" he asked slowly. The other boy looked up from rubbing at his toe with a pained expression which quickly changed into one of complete bliss. He jumped over the fallen cage and gripped Harry's shoulders in his own, "Harry! Harry!" he called his name, jostling the other, "I met my Lady Fate!"

"... Xiaoue?"

"Dear Gods, have thine eyes ever graced such beauty!"

"Xiaoue!"

The said-Gryffindor's star-struck eyes turned to Harry's slight horrified one and curved into a smile, "Harry," he whined, "Did you see her? She was walking down the stairs from up here with such a cool expression! She was like an angel..."

Harry wisely chose to ignore Xiaoue's ramblings and asked, "What are you doing up here?"

"James sent me to retrieve you," he answered shortly before returning to his dreamy tone, "An angel, Harry..."

Harry's mind trailed back to the Ravenclaw he met on the stairs. She _was_ pretty... though... Harry eyed Xiaoue's flushed face critically, "Right. C'mon, before you lose your knees."

Somehow... Harry couldn't imagine one Cho Chang from Xiaoue and the mystery Ravenclaw.

Science worked in strange ways.

-be continued-

The title is "Prism" by Tange Sakura.


	15. Year I: One Second

******015..."Why Does Time Not Stand Still Even For One Second "**

February began to make its appearance as the temperature began to rise slowly and the snow was soggy and wet.

Harry licked the corner of his lips contemplatively, finger drifting over the spines of books. Snape stood beside him with an obviously irate expression as he crossed his arms and tapped his toe against the ground, "Riddle, this is ridiculous. We're still first years no matter how _smart_ we are."

Harry snorted, "Snape... one, I'm the smart one, and two, we haven't even_tried_."

"On the contrary Riddle, we've been at this thing since September. It is now February," Snape said through grit teeth. Harry allowed himself to smile, though he knew it would only serve to anger Snape further, "... but think, we'll be saving so many people in the world with this," he said soothingly.

"I still don't see any reason. Now, stop looking for books and we'll study for the Potions test tomorrow."

Harry looked ready to argue, but bit his lip to keep himself from doing so, "Alright... if you want to rub in how terrible I am at potions."

Snape scoffed, digging out his text book from his bag and setting it out on the table behind them with his notes sprawled everywhere, "You're more decent than all of those other Gryffindors—"

"I think Damocles is brilliant," Harry interjected immediately. He smirked back at Snape's frustrated glare.

Harry watched with detached interest as Snape shook a piece of parchment, covered in ink, in front of his face while mechanically listing of all the ingredients in their assigned potion. Harry knew this potion well by the third time around (after he accidentally elbowed his quill into the boiling mix and causing it to have very disastrous effects... he and Snape were forced to redo during detention) and was beginning to tire of hearing shredded caterpillars, diced pansy petals, whole ginger roots, and pomegranate seeds repeatedly with a steady rhythm.

Brushing his hair back casually, Harry leaned back into his chair and propped his feet on top of the table, successfully stopping Snape mid-rant and drew a narrow-eyed glare from the boy, "What are you doing?"

Harry smiled, "How are your Valentine's prospects?" he changed the subject.

"None."

"None? That's sort of pitiful. What about all the beautiful girls?"

Snape pulled a face and shook his head, disgusted, "Annoying, immature and noisy," he grit. Harry grinned sheepishly and shrugged, "Not all girls are like that."

"No... but they all have too many problems anyway. Whether they're stuck-up, arrogant, know-it-alls. Or we see the girls that are too violent and unlikeable. Anyway, females are something I have no intention of approaching anytime soon."

"You're quite the ladies' man," Harry drawled, shaking his head in good humour. Snape rolled his eyes in response, shutting his book close and crossing his arms over it, "And you Riddle?" he asked in challenge.

"Well, if I had anyone, I wouldn't be in the library studying with you."

Snape blinked, turning around to face the Gryffindor with a frown. Harry stared back with wide eyes and hurriedly straightened up and reached for Snape, gripping his wrist firmly, "Hey, it's a joke. Trust me... no girl can come between friendships."

Snape visibly relaxed, though he narrowed his eyes and raised his brows questioningly, "Friendship, Riddle?"

"Aren't we friends?" Harry quirked a grin, letting out a breathy chuckle at how strange this situation was. Friends with Snape...

It seemed so unreal, Harry realized and watched as a small, pink flush overtook Snape's pale cheeks and the Slytherin jut his chin out proudly and looked away, "... hmph."

Harry laughed, lightly patting Snape's shoulder, "So we'll be spending Valentine's Day... dateless!" he announced, throwing his hands up into the sky. Snape looked over his shoulder and asked, "Then we'll be studying the entire day?"

"No," Harry cut in sharply, "We're going to break into the kitchen and take whatever chocolate the House Elves are willing to share."

"... I don't like sweets."

"Then drink some herbal tea. And maybe some cookies?"

After a minute of silence and puppy eyes, Snape shrugged. Harry grinned brightly, already seeing himself sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower with a stash of chocolate hidden in his robes, "Most of the third years and up are going to be gone, so the school will be pretty empty. We should have no problem throwing ourselves a chocolate, cookie, and tea party."

"Wait, wait," Snape lifted a hand in front of Harry's face, "are you serious?"

"... yes."

Snape's before lightly, flushed face, paled.

* * *

After leaving Snape, tight-jawed in the library, Harry entered the Gryffindor common room with a bounce in his step. He spotted many students sprawled all over the place before spotting a familiar group of faces huddled together in the corner. Harry grinned and walked over to them, "Hey!" he greeted, "What are you guys doing?"

James looked up and exchanged expressions with Harry first, his blue-brown hazel eyes sparkling with mischief, "Did you know Xiaoue has a crush?" he asked.

Harry nodded, taking a seat beside Remus and Xiaoue. It turned out to be an unsafe idea as the overzealous Chinese boy gripped Harry's arm painfully tight and smiled up at him, showing off his front two pearly whites, "Harry... we're increasing my sex appeal," he sighed.

"... do you _know_ what that is?" Harry asked skeptically. He was never educated on the basics of sex until his third year when a flushed Ron was forced to explain that women do not put a wand to their bellybutton and cast magic spells to make a baby. ("... it's... it's actually... the wand. The wand is actually entered _into_ the woman—you know girls and guys have different... body parts? Yeah? Yeah... well... the... the man's wand is entered into the woman—don't ask where you have to enter the woman Harry, because once you decide you want babies you'll find out easily enough! Like a bloody_, virgin_ sacrifice! I—I—argh!")

Xiaoue looked properly offended as his grip on Harry tightened and his lip stuck out in a pout, "I live with three very attractive females! 'Course I—"

"Sorry, sorry..."

"But there's a problem to the plan," James cut in, "One of us have to be the villain in order to make Xiaoue look like a hero."

Harry blanched and whirled around to face James, "What? What are you talking about? What are you guys planning to do?"

"Calm down Riddle," Sirius snorted, looking up from the transfiguration text he held in his lap, "No one's going to be kicking puppies or eating babies."

"Kicking Mrs. Norris sounds attractive," Remus shared a smirk with Sirius, though the dark-haired boy snorted and looked back down to his book, "Anything to do with Mrs. Norris is not attractive at all. But it should be fun."

Pursing his lips and raising his hand, James calmly said, "Away from the cat, and back to the plan at hand—"

"I have _no_ idea what you guys are doing. What are you doing?"

"Well, Harry... since you asked," Xiaoue's eyes rolled up to the ceiling in thought, and his lips curled into a smile.

* * *

When Lily found Harry, the boy was slumped over the couch like a cadaver and she stared openly for a few seconds before approaching him... cautiously, "Harry? ... um, have you done the Charm's Essay?"

Harry didn't even look to her; not even twitch a finger, "Mm-hmm."

"... can I see it? I want to check if our information matches..."

"Mm-hmm."

Lily paused, stuck on actually retrieving Harry's essay, or confronting him about his sudden, strange attitude. She chose the latter, "Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head. Lily was only glad the boy wasn't paralyzed or something similar.

"You know about Xiaoue's crush?" Harry started softly, continuing on when Lily nodded, "Well... he wants to impress her. And, of course, being who they are... James and the rest thought up this so-called 'brilliant' idea that might very well end the respect that people held for me."

Lily's eyes bugged out of her head, "_What_?" she demanded, voice no higher than a raspy whisper but it caught Harry's attention like a whip, "'James and the rest?' And what exactly are you to do?"

"... um... Lily," Harry sat up, arms stretching out to lightly hold Lily's hands in his own, "It's okay... I can handle it. I mean, it's nothing so terrible—"

Harry winced when Lily let out a slightly crazed giggle and shook her head, "No, Harry. I've been itching to smack James Potter since the first day here. This is the perfect excuse—"

"No," Harry emphasized, gripping Lily's thin shoulders and looking at her with big, serious eyes, "No. Lily, we were going to look over your essay. Not kill James for... being James."

Pursing her mouth together, Lily glared up at the boy's dormitory where most of the first-years were, "I just... he rubs me in the wrong way. I don't know why... but I don't like him at _all_."

"I understand! I knew a person like that," Harry immediately responded, Draco Malfoy at the edge of his mind. He was always ready to push that ferret-faced bastard off a cliff, "... Lily... are you busy on Valentine's Day?" he suddenly asked.

Lily flushed at the very idea of the holiday and shook her head shyly. Harry let out a pleased laughter and flopped back onto his couch, "Snape and I are planning a so-called study group involving chocolate, biscuits, and tea. Would you care to join us Miss Evans?"

Blushing prettily, Lily covered her grinning lips with her hand, "Why, I would enjoy that Mr. Riddle. Thank you for such an invitation."

"My, you're too much," Harry scoffed, tossing his head back, "... hey, do me one favor: Give James a chance."

Lily blinked and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable at this topic and and hid her face, "Despite... _everything,_ I want to do that too. But sometimes he's so big-headed and arrogant! He keeps picking a fight with me! ... he should be more like you."

Harry frowned, staring intently at the embarrassed girl next to him, "... you're the first one to every say that."

Lily looked up, brows furrowed in confusion, "What? People tell you to be more like Potter?"

"Haha, something like that."

"Well, don't," Lily sighed and sat down on the couch next to Harry, "The world can handle only one James Potter."

Harry smiled fondly, "And if he were to confess that he was harboring some sort of secret crush on you?"

"I'd reject him," Lily said curtly and without though. Harry laughed, leaning back into the scarlet cushioning, "Aw, but all the pretty green-eyed babies."

"Ew, yuck, besides green eyes are rare and with James, the babies are probably going to have his eyes—not that I've been thinking about it! Ew! Yuck!"

Harry wrapped an arm around his stomach to settle it's jumping due to his breathy laughter, "Ah, so which one of your parents have the eyes?"

"... my dad," Lily answered with slight shrug, "My sister Petunia has Mom's. I basically look like my dad and my sister looks like my mom. ... hah, I really miss them... that nightmare of sister too," Lily blinked when her eyes began to well up with involuntary tears and she furiously wiped at them, "Oh no..."

"It's okay. It's okay to miss home," Harry comforted. Lily shook her head, hiding her face from behind her hands and sniffed, "No, it's not. I'm so stupid, I mean... you're doing fine and I'm being such a baby..."

Harry winced and looked away, "... don't compare yourself to me..." despite being away from everything he lived for, he was currently with the parents he never had yet always wished for, "It's just a bad example."

"What about that Tom Riddle guy Professor Slughorn talked about? Is he a relative?"

Lily jumped in surprise when Harry snarled viciously, his eyes flashing and Lily swore his pupils dilated, "Tom Riddle?" he hissed, "No... that's not a person. He's a monster."

_And I will destroy him before he does me.'_

* * *

Harry was experiencing the most pleasant dream when he was rudely awoken by Sirius standing over him with a frown, "What...?"

Sirius looked sideways and cocked his head sharply, "Come with me."

Reluctantly and with a threatening glare from the other, Harry wore his robes over his pajamas and left the Gryffindor Commons following Sirius. With each hall passed, Harry became more aware of his surroundings and stared at Sirius's back in bewilderment, "... are we going to the dungeons?" he asked.

Sirius did not supply an answer and continued walking. It became obvious when Sirius pushed open the door to Dungeon Three, the one where the Deathday Party for nearly-headless-Nick was held in Harry's former second year.

Harry didn't have a clue on why Sirius would drag him down to the dungeons so early in the day (the sun wasn't even up), and blinked in surprise at the two figures that already occupied the dank room as if they were waiting for them. A woman Harry immediately recognized as Walburga Black, Sirius's mother. She stared down at the pair of them as if they were something peeled off the foot of her shoe. She was much more beautiful than Harry remembered her being with yellow skin and rolling eyes, screaming and screaming... beautiful, but Harry still felt a slight and annoying throb in his left temple from stress at seeing the woman.

But the other boy with her, however, was a new face to Harry. He resembled the woman next to him with her sleek, black hair; pale, sickly face; and unearthly, blue eyes. He looked at Harry and tilted his head in what looked like wonder. Harry looked away to stare at the back of Sirius's bed-ragged hair.

"What is that trash?" Walburga demanded, her voice scratchy and low, Harry didn't recognize it as it didn't resemble her screaming. Sirius looked back at Harry with almost apologetic eyes, "... a Binder."

"... foolish. Draw your wand, spawn."

"I'll do it when I'm ready," Sirius snapped back, turning around to fully face Harry, "Sorry Riddle, I dragged you into this..."

Harry shook his head, dismissing the apology for the more important stuff, "What's going on?"

Sirius scoffed, glaring over his shoulder and his impatiently waiting mother, "That horrible hag's handing my position as heir to Regulus."

Realization sunk in quickly and Harry spared the newly-dubbed Regulus a quick glance, "So... why am I here?"

"As a Binder, Riddle. Haven't you studied this before? I know you've read the entire library by now," he sighed, frustratedly running a hand through his hair, "You're a witness contract Binder. If you go to Wizard weddings, the Best Man and the Maid of Honor are the witness contract Binders of the event. You're here to see that I'm giving the heirship without false statements and complete it honestly."

"Are you?"

"What?"

Harry pinned Sirius with a stern glare, "Are you giving the heirship without false statements and are you going to complete it honestly?"

With a few long seconds passing, Sirius, in the end, broke into a wide grin and lifted his eyebrows, "Yes," and he and Harry shared smirks and turned to face Walburga, wand in hand.

They quickly went into formation, Harry stood across from Regulus while Walburga and Sirius faced each other. Walburga dug out a crisp pile of parchment from within her dark green robes and threw it to the middle of their diamond formation.

"Hold your feet to the ground firmly," she ordered, "Do not break contact, or I will kill you," she said this all in a bored tone and Harry looked at her incredulously. Sirius did not react, though a hint of smirk formed at the corners of Regulus's lips.

Then she began the ceremony, "_Exorsus!_" she casted, a thin line of white lite flowing from the tip of her wand and the others to gather around the pile of parchment in the center, lifting it up as it sat in the center of a invisible ball, "I, Walburga Alphard Black, vow under contract to keep silence and secrecy, Binding word into law I accept all duties as a Binder of Regulus Arcturus Black," she paused, eyes lingering on all the other faces around her, "Do you Sirius Cyon Black agree to this contract of losing position as lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

"I, Sirius Cyon Black, agree."

"Ownership of all estates and the Black vaults is to be given to one Regulus Arcturus Black. Do you accept?"

"I, Regulus Arcturus Black, accept."

A thin layer of light surrounded the hovering parchments in the middle of the group, Harry felt his wand shuddering in his hand, "I, Harry Riddle, vow under contract to keep silence and secrecy, Binding words into law I accept these duties as a Binder of Sirius Cyon Black. May his words be kept true and honest," Harry missed the surprised look Sirius sent him, "_Clausuria!_"

The light broke from their wand and whipped back light a broken rubber band to the light, the sheen shining in their faces for minutes before the shield disappeared and the parchments fell to the ground softly.

Harry sighed and stretched his tight limbs for a quick second, although he quickly straightened out when Walburga looked at him boredly, "This is simply the first part of the contract Mr. Riddle," she drawled, "No doubt, there will be others. Bindings, complicated ones such as the Heir-Switch bind, takes considerable amount of time. If we are quick and precise, this will all end in about four more years."

"... will you still allow Sirius into your home?"

Walburga frowned, pinning Harry with an icy glare, "I am not _disowning_ him, as of yet. Simply moving him down where he belongs." Harry only nodded and Walburga moved her attentions from him to her older son, "Hmph, trash. Say goodbye Regulus."

Regulus did not say anything, looking at his brother for a minute longer before moving to follow him mother. They walked over to the dusty fireplace at the wall and Walburga pulled out a silver pouch containing what looked like Floo Powder. Regulus disappeared first with a cry of, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Walburga quickly followed and soon enough Sirius and Harry were left alone—tired and swamped.

Sirius laughed shakily, "Thank you, Riddle."

"Whatever, we still have four years left. I can't believe you chose me for this."

"Binders are usually people we trust most."

Harry glanced sideways at the other, "And if that person changes?"

"... it doesn't matter. Once a Binder, always a Binder."

"... alright," he smiled, turning round to return to the commons. He wasn't looking forward to any of these next visits, at all.

* * *

It wasn't helping the rest of his day when Harry found himself a victim under the receiving end of one Xiaoue Chang's crush.

The girl's glasses were somewhere on the ground and her black robes had visible dust on the side, she seemed completely oblivious to how ridiculous she looked, however, and kept jabbing her wand in Harry's direction threateningly, "Apologize," she demanded.

Harry's eyes widened and he glanced over at the corner where Xiaoue was supposed to be hiding.

This wasn't exactly the part of the plan _at all_. What the Gryffindor First Year's thinking process was, that Harry would accidentally bump into the girl, but before she reached the ground, Xiaoue would handsomely grab her in a romantic pose. Remus had rolled his eyes at James's enthusiasm... too enthusiastic if Harry recalled, and he swore James did this all on purpose.

But the plan backfired as Harry _did_ successfully shover her to the ground, and Xiaoue did not get to her in time, lingering in the hallway because of his shoe. The girl skid on the stone floor, her glasses flying off at the impact and her body making a heavy noise and Harry winced at how much pain she must've experienced.

He wasn't supposed to apologize. That was the plan. And currently, Harry desperately wanted to.

"Apologize," she repeated, inching closer dangerously.

"Look—um... I—"

"Harry!" Xiaoue called. Harry visibly relaxed and the girl's own attention shifted from him to the newcomer with furrowed brows.

Xiaoue smiled apologetically, "Say sorry to her, please. Afterall, you did bump into her."

Harry was threatened to roll his eyes, but quickly decided against it when the girl glared at him, "Oh, right... but... your lady friend's wand is... intimidating," it was slightly true. Harry felt his hand resting comfortably in his pocket, but it did nothing for him at the current moment. He almost couldn't believe he was being threatened by a first-year. But the girl did blink and reluctantly put her wand away, "I'm still waiting for an apology."

Harry nodded frantically, "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you or even run into you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered, pacified with Harry's sincere attitude and turned to Xiaoue, "Thank you," she smiled softly and turned around to walk away, completely missing how Xiaoue's face turned a bright red and he stuttered uncontrollably for long seconds before shouting out, "I'M XIAOUE! WILL YOU MARRY ME?"

The girl had already turned the corner and from the way she didn't come running back to curse Xiaoue was evidence that she missed his entire outburst. Harry was already leaning against the wall for support while clutching his stomach at the pain of holding in his laughter.

* * *

"Ah, tea. Preferences Snape, Lily?"

Both shook their heads.

Harry frowned and shrugged, "Jasmine tea? Do you two like flower tea? Okay, Jasmine tea then. Can you keep the flowers in there?"

The House Elf nodded her head, bat-ears flopping around wildly, "Cally will bring it immediately sirs and miss!" and she scampered away. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes at the two companions, obviously uncomfortable at the other's presence, "No chocolate, they're not willing to share the cookies, so all we have are sandwiches and tea."

Snape shrugged, "We'll make do. Brought your notes?"

Harry's jaw slacked, "We're studying?"

"'Course we're studying!" Lily intervened, "Exams aren't so far away anymore!" Harry looked at her disbelievingly, "Lily! I can't believe you! Acting like a Ravenclaw!"

"You're too Gryffindor for your own good. We're studying," she and Snape nodded, though the latter glared at the girl for agreeing with him.

Cally, the House Elf, returned quickly with the sandwiches and requested drink, giving the pot and cups to the three first-years. Harry slung the bag of sandwiches over his arm and waved goodbye to Cally who bowed deeply, "Cally is always grateful to young Master Harry," she chirped. Snape and Lily looked at him strangely but he brushed it off.

Harry remembered Cally from when he defended Hogwarts back in 1998. The castle was beginning to fall and the House Elves were slowly falling into extinction. Cally survived in the end, she and a handful of other elves.

Harry and the other two quickly made their way up the Astronomy Tower where the view and breeze was fabulous for a afternoon picnic. All classes that day were canceled due to a Hogsmeade visit for the older students.

"What's_she_ doing here?" Snape asked, almost casually in tone, but Harry caught the irritation in them even if Lily didn't, "Snape, this is Lily Evans. She's in our year. And Lily, this is Severus Snape, he's a Slytherin in first year."

"Nice to meet you," Lily greeted politely.

"Not_who_ is she," Snape grit, "_Why_ is she here?"

Hoping Lily wasn't offended by Snape's words, Harry attempted to lighten the mood, "We're together here as dateless bookworms?"

"... ... pour the tea Riddle."

Harry grinned and obliged. The time went by, with small conversations and occasional mummers and comments while they studied. After thirty minutes, Harry no longer had to be a link between Lily and Snape as they no longer had trouble with responding to each other.

They continued on with their study group whilst sipping tea, only to be surprised when a unrecognizable professor stepped up the stairs on onto the clearing.

He was a male, tall and dark-skinned with heavy dreadlocks that fell into his sharp-featured face. The silence was thick and uncomfortable as professor and students stared at each other. Lily reacted first, quickly gathering her notes and stammering, "W-we're sorry P-Professor. We'll leave—"

The man shook his head, raising a hand to stop her, "Oh, no don't bother. I just needed something from Professor Sinistra, if you don't mind. I thought she would be up here... but apparently not," he grinned, white teeth gleaming in the light, and Harry swore he saw a fang, "I'll go on ahead. I hope to see you three in third year, then?"

Harry frowned, "Third year, sir?" An extracurricular class?

The man pressed his lips together and smiled, "Yes, Mr. Riddle. Divination," and with a flap of his robes, he retreated downstairs.

"... he seemed... a bit creepy," Lily said nervously. Snape, however, pressed different matters, "Have you ever seen him before Riddle?"

Harry blinked at the two and slowly shook his head, "No... I never have."

A small realization sunk in at this surprise meeting, and Harry smirked at his anticipation of what Divination might be like for him in this time.

... if he could make it that far.

-be continued-

Title from Komatsu Ayaka's (of PGSM) "C'est la Vie." "_Exorsus"_is Latin for "Beginning" while "_Clausuria"_ is Latin for "End." "Alphard" in Walburga's middle name is the star, it means "solitary" or "heart of the hydra." It's also a family name While Sirius is "Cyon" the abbreviation of another star meaning "before the dog." I'm cliche. Love me.

The relationship between Xiaoue and the new girl... is for my own entertainment. As well as the new Divination teacher. I love his character... and for anyone who cares, he's black. Ufufu.


	16. Year I: Can't Understand

**016..."****I Can't Understand You That Easily So What Should I Do?****"**

The rush of yearly exams were starting. Sirius was dangling off the end of the sofa lifelessly, "Riddle, please," he whined, "No more of your stupid speech or I might choke you."

Harry gaped, his arms and hands flailing like fish out of water as he continued his rant for the last ten minutes, "Look! It's not that easy for me too! History of Magic is horrible you know! We haven't even started on the Goblin Wars yet!" Harry was never good at the class from the very beginning. He hoped the class would be easier the second time around like all the others... only he didn't remember _anything_.

His friends weren't helping at all.

"Harry, this spell here..."

"Riddle, lend me your notes."

"Harry, I don't think this spell is supposed to light the floor on fire."

"Oh my God! James!"

There's a mild tumble of limbs and wands as everyone ran far away from the nicely-sized, blue fire. One of the Hoods, who was absently reading over their Transfiguration text, put it out with a small water spell. Harry gave him a thankful look and turned back to James, "Bluebell flames... fire magic is _extremely_ difficult to control... don't do it indoors—in fact, don't do it outdoors either. Trees are delicate things."

"You sound like a woman Harry," James commented lamely, a dark, ashy mark on his cheek. Harry knew immediately James did not register a thing he said.

He sometimes hated being a seventh year, in first year camouflage. Especially when said-first years thought you were some kind of genius.

"Harry?" Lily called, placing a hand on his shoulder. The boy looked up at the pretty red-head with a frown, "What is it?

"Someone's out there. He's asking for you."

Harry let his eye roam around the common room and slowly walked out through the portrait door, not wanting to attract attention. The Fat Lady's portrait swung close behind him and Harry looked around the empty area, slightly confused.

"Over here Riddle," came a familiar voice from the shadows. Harry turned sharply, "Malfoy!" he gasped in surprise. The blond sneered and cocked his head, Harry followed him down the stairs, "What do you want?" he asked in the middle of their silence.

Malfoy didn't answer immediately. He preoccupied himself by eyeing Harry up and down, as if sizing him up, "... there's been... a certain rumour going around in the pureblood families," he started, he seemed uncertain if not hesitant, "I want know something."

"And why should I answer?"

Malfoy stopped in his tracks and Harry paused as well; it proved to be a bad idea as Malfoy slammed him against the wall by the front of his robes and dropped his voice to a whisper, "Simply because it deals with your useless potion."

Harry wheezed. His body was not made for such an impact and he was having trouble breathing and was beginning to see stars, "... potion?" he asked, dazed. Malfoy made an impatient noise and dropped his hands, looking almost apologetically at the physically-eleven year old boy, "That... Wolfsbane or whatever."

Words began to make sense again and Harry looked thoughtful, "... what rumour?"

"It doesn't concern—"

"Malfoy."

"... ... some wizard's been gathering followers in the shadows. I don't know much right now... but some of my housemates' parents are being dragged into this. From what I've heard, he's looking towards the werewolves for allies. Is your potion... for him?"

All at once, everything became cold. His body, his blood, his _eyes_... Harry began to tremble, ignoring the pain in his palm when his fingernails dug into the flesh. He couldn't be sure as of yet... but he was almost positive. Harry looked up at Malfoy with a steely stare, "_Never_."

Malfoy felt those strange green eyes flash like lightening went through them, quick and powerful. He felt cold sweat on the back of his neck, "I'll hold you to that Riddle," and he turned away. He was done with this. He didn't need to see Riddle more than he had to with the bloody potion. No more.

"Malfoy!" Harry called back. Malfoy didn't turn, although stopping smoothly... he could imagine Riddle glaring at him right now and the very thought... it terrified him.

Harry put on a grim smile, gaze stern and steady, "Don't be trapped by him either."

Malfoy scoffed, his well-trimmed hair tossing easily, "I only do what benefits me, Riddle. If this... _Wizard_... is willing to help me in pursuing my ambitions... then so be it," that was all he needed. There would be no more words to this. Lucius Malfoy sighed, already regretting his decision to confront Harry about this.

"... but he's just not worth it," came the soft whisper. Harry chewed on his lip, turning around to return to the common room. It was near curfew. He might be time traveler and all... but Dumbledore still expected him to follow the rules.

So it was beginning already. It was soon though... too soon perhaps. But Voldemort always tended to come when he was most unwelcome.

Lily met him at the entrance with her own quirky grin, "What was it about?"

"It's nothing," he quickly brushed it off. Lily looked slightly offended, but chose not to say anything.

"Hey! Harry!" James called from a place on the floor, all of the first years' notes and texts were scattered strategically all over the floor, "I need help in Charms!"

Harry laughed, giving Lily a friendly wink before rushing off, "Only if you help me on History," he replied smoothly. James's groan of dismay was ignored by everyone else.

* * *

Snape approached Harry before Potions, which didn't happen very often, "Riddle," he called for the boy's attention. Harry gave it to him immediately and pursed his lips, "... Snape?" he asked.

Before Snape had the chance to answer, Sirius snarled from beside Harry, "What do you want?" he snapped viciously. Harry quickly laid a hand on Sirius's arm to calm him down. Grey eyes flickered to him then back up at the Slytherin.

"It's none of your business, Black," he turned around and motioned for Harry follow. Sparing a look at his friends Harry followed Snape to the other side of class where his bags were, "What's the matter?"

"I believe we should postpone our experimenting. The exams are coming up as well, it's best this way."

Harry nodded easily, slightly relieved that this wasn't anything big, "Oh, alright. I understand."

Snape stopped moving for a moment, his black eyes narrowed in what looked like thoughtfulness before his lips spread into a nasty sneer, "... you must've heard the rumour then?"

"Yeah," the dark-haired Gryffindor licked his lips tentatively, "From Malfoy... about the—"

"Yes."

An uncomfortable silence rose between them. Harry knew he had to warn Snape. Everything he wanted to say was dancing on the tip of his tongue, tickling it with it's tiny agile toes and graceful swipes, "Keep away from him Snape," he rushed it all out in a single breath, "I swear, it'll only end up badly."

Snape glared, lips pouting, "Don't tell me what to do Riddle," he hissed. Harry merely shook his head in exasperation, "You Slytherins... all the same..."

"You lot aren't much better."

Harry smirked sadly, and Snape looked away.

* * *

The time was nearing 2400 hours. Snape didn't know what he was doing awake, but the expression of desperation Harry had held when warning him was so fiercely plaguing his thoughts like a disease. He was momentarily distracted by a flicker of periwinkle robes in the corner of his eyes.

"Snape," Narcissa Black acknowledged stiffly. Snape was thought to simply ignore the girl, but she had too much power for his actions to be safe, "Good evening Black," he murmured instead.

But his speaking seemed to have annoyed the blonde as well. Her cold eyes narrowed into slits and she scrunched her nose in distaste, "Shut up," she drawled, walking down the stairs from the Girl's Dormitories to the dark-green sofa closest to the fire, "You're friend with my cousin, correct?" she asked, snapping her cleanly-manicured fingers and summoning a House Elf.

While Narcissa placed an order of hot tea, Snape was silently wishing he just had gone upstairs, "No."

"You converse with him. I saw—"

"Only the unfortunate consequences of working with a Gryffindor," he assured, feeling so much more older than eleven. But he was scared out of his wits because of this one woman.

The House Elf popped in again with a crack, tea cup and pot in hand. Narcissa ordered the elf to pour her the delicate-red liquid and sipped it with dim satisfaction, "... Riddle," she breathed. Snape did not answer so she continued on, "Lucius is interested in him."

A blush was fighting its way up to Snape's sickly pale face and his eye twitched, "Pardon?" he asked slowly. Narcissa snapped angrily, "No you ingrate! Not in a perverse manner. We are to wed, I'd kill him if it was so!"

Snape didn't doubt it.

"... but..." the girl sighed after inhaling the sweet scent of Rose Tea, "he interests me as well. Something about him is subtle... almost Slytherin. Like he was once one of us."

Snape scoffed, "Once does not mean he still is."

"I know that," Narcissa pinned the first year with a glare, "Don't interrupt me Snape. ... Lucius said the boy disarmed him before. From what I have heard, he's the top of the class, and even though his essays aren't much... he makes it up with practicals."

Something was off. Narcissa almost had a dreamy intone while talking about Riddle, her eyes gazing far off into the distance, "... Why are you studying him?" he asked, almost hesitant to know.

Narcissa smiled, a long and rather cruel looking simper, "Hmph... I like studying beautiful things."

"Black..." Snape started, startled, "What are you—?"

"Give this to Riddle," she cut him off successfully, pulling a crisp envelope from her robes, "Tell him it's for the traitor."

Snape eyed the letter than the Slytherin handing it to him casually. He slowly took it from her grasp, "... why won't you give it to him yourself?"

She looked at him, he swore he saw concern in her eyes, "I can't meet Sirius..." she muttered lowly, "Not yet."

Snape closed his eyes and shook his head, "Very well."

Narcissa stood up and swiftly trekked back up the stairs, "Goodnight Snape," she called sarcastically. And closed the door behind her.

Snape ignored Narcissa, having Riddle all over his mind again... as well as the letter. Loopy writing was on the front, spelling out "Idiot Brother." He stuck it into his pocket, making sure it was secure. Gathering up the things he had strewn over everything, he walked up to the first year dorm, occupied by Rosier and Wilkes and dumped his belongings onto the floor next to his bed.

"... beautiful things?" he snorted, shaking his head dramatically and fell on top of his bed with a heavy squeak of the mattress under him.

Sleep did not come easily.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked his Charms partner for the day. Remus smile awkwardly and shrugged, "Mm, tired. But tomorrow's exams. I've already missed school for three days, I can't afford to skip another class."

"Even if all the marks are gone, you looked pretty bad yesterday," Harry commented worriedly. Sometimes Remus had a habit of pushing aside his lycanthropy for petty things like school.

"Haha," the werewolf laughed easily, "Harry... I look 'pretty bad' every full moon."

"You should sleep more often."

Remus shook his head, shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes, "I appreciate your concern, but I only need _one_ Madam Pomfrey."

"... I do spend too much time around her..."

"Heh heh, come on Mr. Riddle. Help me out with this."

Harry helplessly leaned forward, watching Remus _swish-and-flick_ his wand to no avail, "Why does everyone come to me for help?" he asked, curious. Remus paused his wand and looked at Harry, golden eyes wide, "Does it bother you?" he asked, almost terrified and Harry shook his head frantically, "No! No, not at all! But... I'm not..." _I'm not Hermione..._ "... very smart."

"Bullshit," Sirius drawled from beside him. Lily, Sirius's partner, dropped her jaw in horror and threw her quill at the boy, "Sirius! Language!"

Sirius ignored the girl and turned to face Harry with a straight face, "You spend half your time in the library and the _other_ half studying. That has to count for something."

"You should pick up his work ethic," James chirped from above, helping his partner Peter with whatever they were practicing.

"Shut up Potter."

Harry nervously smiled, laying a hand on Sirius's thin shoulder and his other on James's desk, "You guys..." They both rolled their eyes and turned away from one another.

By lunch they were already actively throwing insults to one another. Harry was getting tired of the reoccurring, "You drink from the toilet!", "You_look_ like a toilet!", and "At least I don't _smell_ like one, Black!"

He hardly noticed when a hand shot out from the crowd of student and dragged him roughly away from his friends. Harry yelped and ripped his arm out of the other's grip and glared at the offender, "Snape!"

As expected, the dark-haired boy didn't apologize and simply went down to business, sticking out a envelope, "Give this to Black."

Harry eyed it suspiciously, "... what is it?" he asked slowly.

Snape raised an eyebrow and flipped the letter over multiple times, giving Harry an all-around view, "A letter," he stated as if it was obvious, "Free of bombs and biting insects."

"Can't trust you too completely with things like this, y'know," Harry grinned sheepishly and took the letter, "Have you read it?"

"No," and he left, hurriedly and abruptly. Harry really wasn't surprised.

As soon as he entered the Great Hall, Harry hurried over to Sirius, who placed himself next to Remus and an open spot for Harry, "Sirius, there's a letter for you," he outstretched the envelope and watched as Sirius opened it up after a single glance at the writing on the front, "It's from Regulus," he said while reading.

"Regulus...?" Harry asked softly, waiting patiently until Sirius gave signs that he was done. He set down the folded parchment onto the table and began piling his dish with food, "... what a prat," he growled.

Harry quirked a grin and followed Sirius's example, having himself a bowl of tomato soup and wheat-based dishes, "Seeing as he wrote to you, I suppose he's not _that_ big of a prat?"

"... He's telling me how he's generous enough to share the family fortunes once I'm truly demoted."

"Isn't that nice?" Harry asked. Sirius grinned, eyes wide and slightly crazed, "He's insulting me."

Harry winced. He thought it would be something like that... Sirius's ears were a bright red and it contrasted horribly with his dark skin, "I think," he started hesitantly, "You need a break."

"What does _that_ have to..." Sirius sighed, clapping a hand over his eyes and tilting his head back, "Yeah... I need a break."

Harry nodded, feeling energetic, "We'll study for a bit then go right to bed. It's best to be well rested on exam days!" _Or it's what Hermione used to say... I feel like her substitute... Damn I miss her._

"Hmm..." Sirius nibbled on the end of his roll.

He was exhausted, Harry knew. He remembered feeling like this back in his first year... with Quirrell and the stone... "It's a friend's job to check after another friend."

Sirius did not reply.

-be continued-

**Title from "Vivid" by Fairy Fore. This is the second to last chapter of the First Chronicle. It hasn't been so long... ah, I need to start working on the second chronicle. **


	17. Year I: Don't Vanish

I looked frantically for some knowledge on English Examination System or whatever, and I was having the most difficult time. So I did not try at all. :P Why yes, I am a loser. ::preen, preen::

**017..."**** Everyone Knows That the Scars Don't Vanish****"**

James groaned and laid his head on the table when his stomach gave a low growl, "I'm going to fail," he whined, wrapping arms around his sides, "I'm going to fail and it's not going be a very happy thing..."

Harry bristled visibly and lightly punched James's shoulder, "You better not fail," he threatened earnestly, thinking back to the many hours of studying they did just yesterday night. James, Remus, and Peter had ambushed him in the boy's dormitories and they all sat on Harry's bed and listened to the boy lecture, "All my hard work—"

"Please... Riddle," Sirius neatly cut his sausages with a knife; earlier into the year, he claimed that cutting his food into bite-size pieces helped his thinking, "Save it for after. We're all suffering," he lazily pointed his fork at Peter who looked pale and was lightly rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Pettigrew's having an ulcer."

Peter glared at Sirius, though his glare was as effective as a bullet-less gun, "Don't talk about me," he stiffly said through his tense muscles, "Can't retort."

Lily watched the boys having their own inner wars and calmly sipped her morning juice. They had transfiguration first. She knew for a fact Sirius and James were rather confident about that particular subject while Peter and Remus were not as talented. Unlike Peter, Remus was a very well-rounded student who had no overwhelming flaws in his studies and no subjects in which he excelled above any others. He did well in all his classes, though in Sirius and James's case they had a certain gift for transfiguration that not even Harry had.

Harry... there was a character. Lily felt her face heat up at the thought of the boy's sweet smile. She's heard the girls from other Houses as well as her own talk about boys in a dreamy tone and every time her mind would drift back to the kind brunet with his vibrant green eyes.

Lily vaguely noted that she had green eyes as well... a shade similar of Harry's. But looking at the boy with his contrasting black hair made it all the more stunning.

She was just a girl, not very interesting to look at or talk to. Harry didn't seem to mind her flaws, it was like he didn't even see them with a faint twinkle of fondness in his eyes—every time. Linda, her newly made best friend, caught her and immediately donned knowing grin and prodded the girl until she gave in and confessed.

That's when the thought struck her, harder than before. Lily let her eyes roam over to where Harry Riddle sat, '_I love him..._'

"Lily! You're as red as your hair," Linda leaned forward and placed a hand on the girl's forehead, "You all right?"

Lily nodded, unable to find her voice to speak. Linda Greywards cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, "If you're sure. C'mon, breakfast will be over soon, so let's go to McGonagall's and see if we can get some hints from her."

"I doubt she'd tell us," Lily sighed, standing up to follow her friend... though not before looking at Harry in wonder. The boy caught her glance and grinned at her and gave a friend wave—

Lily's heart fluttered and she weakly smiled back before turning round and dashing after her friend, '_I love him._'

James narrowed his eyes, "What's with Evans?" he asked. Harry shrugged, "Not a clue. I'm going to go ahead to class then."

"Oh, I'm coming too," Remus chimed, rising from the bench and walking alongside his shorter friend. Sirius had silently slid up next to them within a few seconds.

Behind the three, James and Peter exchanged looks and hurriedly ran after them. James gave a distressed cry of, "Harry! You're not being considerate and slowing down!"

* * *

Harry stifled a yawn with his hand, stretching as Professor Young walked around the class, nervously eyeing her first-year students and picking up the exam papers.

They were finished with their last exam of the school year.

"How'd you do on practicals?" Sirius asked, frowning slightly as he thought back to his own results. Although the question was directed towards Harry, James took the pleasure of letting his opinions be known, "Fantastically. Most of the spells she had us perform on that dummy were rather mediocre."

Sirius raised both eyebrows and allowed a mocking sneer to pass over his lips, "Hmm. Mediocre? Sure it wasn't just you?" he barely had to dodge James's fist, "Hell, Potter!"

"Yeah, best pay 'ttention, or I'll knock your head off!" the other boy cheered and ran down the hall, Sirius hot on his heels. Harry looked at Remus who gave him a small smirk, "Children, aren't they?"

"Quite."

* * *

The Gryffindor table at dinner was suspiciously empty... in fact, no one was sitting at the table. All Gryffindor Lion House members were holed up in their cozy Common Room, passing the butterbeer around like an offering plate.

Harry awkwardly stood near the portrait, looking around at the happening chaos... he was exhausted.

Deftly slipping through bodies and weaving in and out of gaps, Harry made his way to the staircases up to the dormitories, slowly rubbing his eyes to rid them off their heaviness.

He had hardly gotten his foot up on the first step when he was called back by a small voice, "Harry?" Peter called softly. The dark-haired boy turned his neck, looking at the mousy-boy over his shoulder, "Hi Peter," he forced a smile, "I'm just heading up, feeling a bit sick,"_Home sick... sick of pretending... sick of thinking... I'm just a sick, sick creep._

Peter nodded, understanding in his watery eyes, "Not up to partying?" he asked with a slight smile. Harry shrugged in response and turned his eyes back to the stairs. Peter continued talking when he realized Harry wouldn't be, "... It's... kinda weird how old you act—I mean... mature. For an eleven-year old," he winced at his words; they had sounded better in his head, "A-and... yeah. You look tired of life. Exams are tiresome, hm?"

Harry paused for a long moment, slowly craning his neck back around to look stare at Peter with wide eyes, '_Maybe... it's because Pettigrew understands the best. Human emotion, instincts... the fear, exhaustion, hate...'_ Harry chewed on his lip, keeping himself from spatting on the boy's shoes, '_Pitiful.'_

"Sorry Peter, I'm not feeling any better. I'm going to go ahead."

"Oh, right!" the stout boy looked slightly guilty and his ears were red, "... um... Bye."

Harry didn't reply back and quickened his steps, '_... it's been an year now. An year of a normal life... back in the past,_' Harry wrenched open the doors and slammed it behind him, leaning on the wood and staring at the dark ceiling, '_Just why was I sent here? Why was I—'_

The moon's light peeked through the sheer curtains, out shining all the stars, "You cannot give me back what I lost. Not like this. What the point in taking me back so far?" he closed his eyes shutting, ignoring the pain in the back of his head when it collided with the door, "Ron... Hermione..." Harry weakly pushed off the door and towards his own bed, catching the sight of flashing liquid within his Erlenmeyer flask, which was now stained brown due to its constant usage with the moth dust potion.

Harry seized it with an unknown sort of energy, pulling the stopper out and viciously throwing it across the room; he tipped his head back and allowed the warm potion to flow into his system.

He felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck before he was effectively knocked out—

—and he dreamed...

Hair was in his mouth, and in his nose as well. It didn't smell pleasant, but Harry couldn't even twitch a finger.

But he could vaguely roll his eyes around, catching the long neck of a black animal... it faintly resembled a horse from where Harry was, and the vast sky was a vibrant red with the setting sun in the distance.

_"Ah, you're awake."_

A small part in Harry's mind recognized the voice, but everything else was too foggy to comprehend and Harry only caught a sort of clammy hand reach out for him and panic overtook his senses. _DEMENTOR!_ The gnarled, grey hand seemed to belong to one of the beasts... and Harry had no doubt it would've had it not been for the unblemished white sleeve, lined with gold triangles that covered the wrist of the said-hand,_"Can you hear my voice, dear spirit lost in time?"_

The hand lightly brushed against his cheek; it wasn't as cold as it appeared to be,_"Perhaps,"_ the voice continued, and with each word, the noise surrounding it seemed to clear up and the gentle, but low, whisper was heard through the grisliness, _"not strong enough to speak. Your eyes are open, however."_

Harry blinked to prove that fact and he swore he heard a smile from the speaker, _"More movement than I've seen in months... but what brought you to consciousness I wonder—"_ the static in the voice became prominent once more, _"Oh... are you sleeping again? Please do wake up soon. It's a hassle to stuff food into your system."_

And Harry drifted away, the only coherent thought in his mind was the echoing, '_Talks too much...'_

_"Goodbye_ Harry Potter._"_

* * *

Harry jerked away as if he was splashed by cold water, his attention was directed to the window, seeing the rising sun, then looked to the other occupants of the room. All of his dormmates were dead asleep, all still clad in their robes.

He took a minute to collect himself, willing the throbbing in the back of his head away. He doubted that he was supposed to be awake right now... the potion had him out cold for at least eight hours.

Slowly peeling the covers off his body, Harry crawled out of bed and made his way to the Common Room, his head void of thoughts.

As he walked down the stairs, he caught a sleeping student on the couch. The body didn't hold his interest for long as he took in the state of the room. The House Elves were either going to be ecstatic... or horrified. Harry figured it would be the former, but he couldn't really decide... he wasn't a professional House Elf researcher, or anything similar.

... Hermione was though.

Harry twitched weakly and dragged himself to the wall, tripping on his own foot and stumbling to the ground in result.

The very image of the first-year in his wrinkled black robes, sprawled on his hands and knees and eyes wide behind round, glasses would've been pitiful to any passing person. Harry sniffed and slowly drew himself into a tight ball, "Whatever I said that brought me here... I take it back," he whispered, hugging his knees to his chest, "I take it all back, just please... I can't be_ this_ anymore... I can't..."

He stopped himself, biting down on his trembling lip and his nails dug into his slacks...

The pain and taste of blood cleared his mind and Harry winced when he gently rubbed a finger of his lips, "Emotional overload," he grumbled, wiping the flowing red from his chin, "I totally blew my top off," he laughed dryly, standing up with a bit of help from the wall, "I wouldn't be surprised if I really had gone insane."

There was shuffling in the background and Harry looked back over to the couch and saw the figure draped over the scarlet leather sit up, "Urgh..." familiar red hair was spotted from over the back of the sofa and Arthur narrowed his eyes and straightened his askew glasses, "Riddle?" he called.

Harry nodded, "Arthur. I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

The seventh year shook his head and waved a hand lazily, "Nah... the butterbeer thought it would be a good idea to attack my stomach now."

"Oh... um... bathroom's over that way—"

Arthur snorted, a grin on his face, "No, no... it's just wind."

Harry realized he had nothing to say to that. Arthur seemed to notice as he looked at the boy and took a red shade, "Oh, sorry. Made you a tad uncomfortable, huh? Sorry. After living with the same blokes for seven years, you just... get comfortable."

"Right," Harry said slowly, nodding, "... you... it's your last year, huh?"

Arthur shrugged, scratching the back of neck tiredly, "Yeah... y'know Riddle," he chirped suddenly, "you're a good kid. Real polite and everything. I hope I have children like you..."

"Oh?" Harry asked, his lips twitched and a gentle warmth spread over his face.

"Hm, getting married right after I leave. Beautiful girl named Molly. She's amazing," Arhtur sighed, his voice taking on a dreamy tone and his eyes became unfocused. Harry smiled fondly at the starry gleam, "How is she amazing?"

"She just is!" Arthur said, as if it explained it all, "Beautiful, red hair; small, petite body; a cute nose with freckles—she's perfect, you know? An year older so she's out of school already, but we're getting married," he took a moment to dream, "Y'know what Riddle? I'll invite you. The wee-first year that gave me sometime fun to do during my last year. Thanks to you, I probably improved on my control! Plus the understanding of potions better... you're an absolute genius."

Harry looked away, he made too much of a dramatic impact on Arthur, "No... thank _you,_" Harry smiled, slowly rubbing his wand with his thumb.

Arthur gave him a strange look but responded with his own grin, "Good kid, you're a good kid, Riddle," he nodded, then paused, "... um... I really need to go to the restroom now."

"Go ahead."

The redhead smiled sheepishly and stood up, "Bye Riddle," he called, starting towards the stairs, "You should go back to sleep."

"No... it's only four hours until everyone else wakes up." _And where do I have to go?_

"Oh well. Suit yourself," Arthur dashed up the stairs with his long legs, a bit of a dance in his steps in his hurry. Harry called him back before the redhead disappeared, "Arthur. I can't risk you remembering me. It might ruin what I have been trying to do..."

Arthur raised his eyebrows, eyes wary behind glasses, "... what?" he asked.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop and Harry drew his wand, and pointed it towards Arthur... "_Obliviate._ ... you don't know Harry Riddle. You just went through your seventh year of Hogwarts normally. You don't remember me," his brows drew together and Harry broke. He dropped his wand and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it. He barely registered the opening and closing of the door above, "It's better this way."

* * *

Morning came sooner than wanted. Harry felt perfectly happy sitting on the sofa and contemplating on how much his life _sucked_ before Xiaoue's distressed screams called him up.

They spent a good part of the morning cleaning themselves up and packing.

Once his own belongings were neatly put away, Harry made another visit up to the Headmaster's office.

Harry calmly sat himself in his favorite chair and smiled, "I'm tired."

Dumbledore nodded, conjuring tea with his wand, he passed a pink cup over to Harry who took it gratefully, "It's been a peaceful yet tiring year. A white sheep in a black flock, a werewolf who longs for the human way of life, a young genius with a penchant for trouble, and..." he gave Harry a look with twinkles in his eyes, "a time traveler."

Harry lamely sipped his tea, '_You forgot the rat,'_ he was threatened to say, "Snape's a hassle too," came out instead."

"No more than yourself," Dumbledore shrugged.

"Heh, I still don't think I can go back yet..."

"You are welcome here next year as well."

Harry looked up, setting his teacup down and nodded curtly, "Thank you Headmaster."

* * *

"Harry? Are you coming?"

Harry blinked up at Lily then turned back to Hogsmeade village, his trunk in his left and a sack of galleons, sickles, and knuts in the other, "Yeah... I'll catch the next one."

Sirius snorted, opening the door and outstretching his hand, "What's the point? C'mon Riddle."

Harry shook his head, giving the black-haired pureblood a look, "No Sirius... I'll catch the next one."

Whether it was the look Harry gave him or the tone of his voice, Sirius stiffened and backed off, "Useless idiot," he grumbled under his breath. Harry caught it and grinned, "... have a good summer."

"I'd need a miracle. Mother's going to pop my head off."

Harry shrugged, smirking at Sirius who narrowed his grey eyes in return, "As long you come back," he laughed.

Sirius leaned back in his seat and closed the carriage door, "... yeah, I'll come back," he nodded, "See ya, Riddle."

Harry watched as the stagecoach disappeared behind a hill, and slowly all the students began to disappear over it... and Harry was left alone with his trunk in hand and gaze firmly set on Hogsmeade.

Jingling the heavy bag of allowances from the headmaster, Harry forced a grin and sighed heavily, "This is depressing."

And he walked to the small village, trunk trailing behind him.

His pace was slow.

-end-

Title from Do As Infinity's "Rakuen." Yes. This is the end of the First Year.  
**EDITED:** 12-26-2007


	18. Presently 1: Same Language

Hm, here you go. It's about the **Present**, what everyone else is doing while Harry is stuck in the past. And I had a few reviews asking the reason for Harry obliviating Arthur... and so I figured I _do_ owe you an explanation as it might not have seemed like such a wonderful idea at the moment. You'll find my excuse in the forums if you're up to it.

**Presently 01..."We All Speak the Same Language"**

New Years Eve.

Hermione heaved.

She's always been a bit touched in the head since Ron died... then she suddenly didn't understand the words coming from other's mouths once Harry left.

Currently... she couldn't hear anything at all. Only the screams and chaos all around her.

"Ms. Weasley! Push! You're doing fantastically!"

Hermione had half the mind to stick her foot where the nurse probably didn't enjoy having stuck. But she couldn't even lift her foot off the bed without feeling incredibly stupid... so she screamed her lungs' worth instead. The nurses' ears will be ringing by the end of this, she promised.

'_Red hair... red hair and sparkling, brown eyes,'_ Hermione gripped the covers under her, '_He'll have a sweet, bubbly laughter, grow up so tall and lanky, and hate cats...'_ The voices were disappearing now and Hermione was acting on auto-drive.

'_And he'll be such a dunce in Charms, yet an excellent, Quidditch-obsessed flyer. And we'll be happy... Dear God keep us happy...'_

Tears leaked behind heavy lashes and the shrieks and wails of a newborn baby filled the white room.

"Ms. Weasley..." the nurse gasped, sweat on her brows and tickling her chin, "It's a baby boy.

Hermione laughed in insane glee, '_Of course... of course..._'

She took him without opening her eyes, just holding the crying, bloody child in her weak arms and gently laid her cheek on his head, "Harry's such a wonderful name isn't it?" she asked, her voice a scratchy croak. The baby was crying himself red.

Hermione opened her red eyes to take in her baby and smiled at the familiar wisps of fiery red hair and tear-filled blue eyes... Hermione's smiled was immediately replaced by a frown, "... he doesn't have brown eyes..."

The nurse leaned over her shoulder and gently stroked the baby's chin, "Most children are born with blue eyes. They'll soon change into their natural colors if it's not blue."

"It's won't be blue," Hermione promised, holding the baby to her chest, "Harry's eyes won't be blue..."

The nurse didn't know how to respond, so she simply nodded, "Um... ma'am... I have to take the baby for a bit..."

Hermione passed him over to the flustered woman and fell back into bed, "His name's Harry Weasley," she informed casually, pulling the wet sheets to her chin and closing her eyes. The nurse quickly nodded and scurried for the door, crying baby in her arms...

The fading wails of the newly-named "Harry" was almost soothing to Hermione as her senses filled up with it and slow _thump-thump-thump_ of her heart.

McGonagall was right. She was wasting away...

Harry Weasley.

Hermione chuckled. She'd make it.

* * *

Neville frowned at the two untouched envelopes before him.

One from the Minister, and another from Moody.

He... really didn't want to touch it, much less _open_ it... only because he knew what this was about.

He really didn't want to do this... especially since...—

Neville frowned and gave the next room a glance. Ginny sat in her usual seat, happily sewing up an old patch on his robe, pausing sometimes to lovingly stroke her stomach.

They got married in April... and they found out about their child in May.

Neville smiled to himself, almost secretly and he reached forward to flip the white envelope to the opening where the seal was stamped onto its cover. With a twitching finger, he scratched at the phoenix figure engraved into the wax.

He really couldn't accept this. He looked at Ginny who held up the completed robe with an almost boyish grin. Neville shook his head and slowly peeled open the envelope and opened the letter inside.

_So it was time..._

* * *

Neville Longbottom accepted the position of Leader of the Order of the Pheonix, as well as becoming the Head Auror in the Ministry of Magic.

Ginny had smirked at him and raised a slender, red eyebrow mockingly, which disappeared immediately when Neville grabbed her around the waist and dipped her into a long and dry kiss.

So, little by little, the Order was restored, it's members gathering together from out the shadows and back into the light. The Ministry, as well, regained themselves and put all their efforts into rebuilding the Wizarding Community... starting with Hogwarts.

Hogwarts, which by the end of the war was only a pile of bricks and ashes. Slowly, the magnificent castle was coming together, stone by stone, wall by wall, its students by its teachers.

The magical creatures returned to the regrowing forest, the evergreen leaves hiding them sufficiently from human eyes, and peace fell amongst its inhabitants.

... and off to the side on the Calm Lands, Hagrid's Hut sat quietly, untouched and unblemished.

It would become a historical landmark in time.

* * *

"Potter" is now a lost family. Much like the "Malfoy" and "Black." So, with the major pure-blood families gone forever, the once shunned "Weasleys" are pushed into a helpless spotlight.

And that day, the Daily Prophet reporters caught Bill, head of the family. The once-handsome redhead grinned down at the stout camera man and erected a carefully chosen finger, lovely wife at his side.

(There was no mention of how Fleur actively swore at the reporters in all sorts of languages in the article.)

-be continued-


End file.
